To End All Evil
by Zekkers
Summary: A Post Jitters fic- Lex gets a chance to turn his life around. AU. A few more chapters, see Author notes for more details.
1. Chapter 1

"To End All Evil"  
by Zekkers  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
Author's Notes: Post-Jitters. This is scene is placed the following morning. Of course- it probably wouldn't happen, because then Lex Luthor might not grow up to be a super-villain. I'm of the opinion that if something like this did happen, things would be radically different- it would end the future as we know it. Hence the title.  
  
I also tried to cover some plot holes in the show. And yes, I sorta left it open. I'm really an evil person that way. Does anyone care to see me continue this?  
  
Author's Rant: Did anybody notice that Smallville isn't small? I mean- 45,000 people in Kansas would be one of the huge towns. Try 5,000 if you want to get realistic.  
  
///  
  
The beat-up pickup truck drove forward through the open gate as the guard waved it on. The reporters milling around looked at it jealously, but the driver was unconcerned. The truck passed around the curve in the road, parking in front of the stone fortress-like mansion. A man got out of the truck, dragging fingers through blond curls before shoving work-hardened hands into the pockets of his faded jeans.  
  
Jonathan Kent strode purposefully up to the door, the heels of his cowboy boots clicking on the flagstones as the butler held open the front door. The very proper looking man in his expensive suit looked Jonathan up and down disdainfully before turning away, adding the required 'If you would please follow me, sir. Master Lex is in his office."  
  
The two men walked, one behind the other, through the silent echoing corridors, neither willing to talk. It was a long walk, through clean, but somehow gloomy halls, past sitting rooms with antique furniture, and statues of medieval armor. They came to a large wooden door, and the butler opened it, stepping in to announce, 'Jonathan Kent, sir.'  
  
"Thank you, that will be all." Lex motioned with one hand, eyes still glued to the computer screen in front of him.  
  
The stuffy man left, leaving Jonathan standing in front of the large wooden desk, the Luthor behind it almost oblivious to his presence. He was framed by large windows that were covered with gauzy curtains. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, an oriental rug lay on the floor, and the walls were paneled in dark wood.  
  
Lex looked up. "Sorry I didn't come down to meet you. I have to get the proper reports filled out by the environmental department before OSHA will let me re-open. And if the plant isn't open, people don't go to work. And then they don't get paid." He looked back down at the screen.  
  
Jonathan nodded. "I understand. I could come back later?" He sounded almost unsure.  
  
Lex waved a hand. "No, no. I'm almost done reviewing this- just another paragraph. There. I'll e-mail it back to the department, and they can make the changes." He looked up again. "Well, Mr. Kent, what can I do for you?"  
  
Jonathan took a deep breath. "Talked to Clark last night- about what you did yesterday." He paused, then went on. "Talked to some of the other kids too." He looked straight at Lex Luthor. "You're a brave young man, Mr. Luthor. I'm glad my son knows you."  
  
The young man in question just sat, frozen behind his desk, looking a little surprised. He found his voice with a soft, "Ah... thank you, Mr. Kent." It was obvious that he had expected something else, accusations maybe.  
  
Jonathan quirked a smile. "No, thank you, Mr. Luthor." He shrugged a little. "But you're busy, and I've got more chores to do. I won't waste anymore of your time." He backed up a step. "And thanks for seeing me."  
  
Lex quickly stood up, "Oh, it's nothing. I'm always happy to make time, I'll... walk you out."  
  
The two left the large room, walking side by side through the wide hallways back to the entrance. The bald young man motioned towards the walls. "I really should move my office closer to the front door, but the view's better back here. Most of the rooms where first built centuries ago, and the windows are rather small. I couldn't stand working in a cave."  
  
Jonathan grunted. "Place looks rather gloomy."  
  
"It is gloomy." Lex replied, then set his shoulders. "You asked around? About me?" He sounded curious, not angry that Jonathan had double-checked Clark's story.  
  
The farmer answered him, thoughtful, but looking down the hallways, not at Lex. "Martha says I'm stubborn. I know I am. Man has to be stubborn, to hold onto his land, hold onto what he's got."  
  
Lex nodded, and they came to the front door. "It doesn't hurt to stick to your guns."  
  
"Yeah." Jonathan stepped out, then turned around. "Martha's making chicken-fried steak tonight. With mash-potatoes and green beans and apple pie for dessert. If you're not busy, we'd be glad to have you."  
  
A small smile turned up Lex's lips. "I'd... like that. I should know by six if I can make dinner."  
  
The farmer grinned, "We usually eat at five-thirty."  
  
The city born-and-bred man blinked. "That early? Uh, by four then."  
  
Jonathan walked back to his truck. "Just give us a call."   
  
"Sure thing."  
  
The truck drove off, and Lex went back to his office. He buried himself in the paperwork, making notes to himself and returning some phone calls. Trying not to think about what his father had done yesterday- and how it had felt to be so betrayed.  
  
Thinking about Jonathan Kent helped. Lex smiled to himself, as he dialed another number. The man had all but apologized. In fact- Mr. Kent had apologized- the only way a small-town farmer from the Midwest could. Clear as day, without saying the words.  
  
Later the phone rang. Lex picked it up, "Lex Luthor."  
  
"Son."  
  
"Father." Lex's voice was cold, distant.  
  
"How's everything going? The plant re-opened yet?"  
  
"No." He glanced at the clock on the wall. "It will be by noon."  
  
"So late? I thought you would have the local authorities well in hand by now." The voice was calculating, mocking.  
  
Lex sneered. "We made the front page of every paper in the nation, father." He had seen the pictures on CNN.com, the two of them pulled into that ridiculous parody of an embrace. But the press had bought it- and that's all daddy dearest would care about. "You can't get that kind of publicity and then fudge the paperwork. Some grubby-pawed reporter will get wind of it."  
  
"Still, I would think you'd be able to work faster than this." Lionel sounded bored.  
  
Lex sighed. "Would have, but the security cameras weren't taped. I was getting the system upgraded- we had the cameras up and running, but no hardcopy was being made. It took time to get the eyewitness reports, since there wasn't a tape."  
  
"Oh really..." His father paused. "At least you're learning."  
  
"Yes, it was a learning experience all around." Sarcasm dripped from his words. "Now- if you don't mind, I need to get going. I have a lot to do."  
  
"Very well. Goodbye son."  
  
"Goodbye." Lex hung up. Leaned back, stared at the phone. He sat up, pulling open the bottom drawer to his desk. There was a black VCR tape sitting there, and as Lex lifted it, looking at the spine, the clear print reading: 'Plant 3, Tuesday'. Lex dropped it back in the desk drawer sliding it shut. Looked at the mountains of extra paperwork on his desk.  
  
"Clark," he whispered, "What I do for you...." 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2a 

The air was dusty, the smell of straw was thick in the air of the barn.  Lex followed Clark up the stairs into the hayloft.  Around the turn in the stairs, and into the small room.  The window shutters were swung open, letting in the moonlight.  The rafters sloped towards the center of the room, somehow making the space look smaller.  

Lex crossed the room, glancing through the window while Clark flopped down on the couch.  Lex ran his perfectly manicured nails against the rough-hewn boards of the windowsill before shoving his hands into his overcoat.

"Your parents always watch the news after dinner?"  Lex asked, seeing through the house window the two older Kents settling down in the living room.  Lex felt bloated- green beans, salad, mashed potatoes, rolls, and chicken-fried steak.  He had thought that the 'steak' would be some way of preparing chicken but it turned out to be a thin beef steak, breaded with flour and deep fat fried before being smothered in white gravy.  They finished the meal off with apple pie and coffee.  Rather good actually, even if the menu was far less cosmopolitan than he was used to.

"Yeah."  Clark said.  The young man shrugged, then turned towards Lex.  "You wanted to talk to me?"

Lex smiled as he looked outside the window, across the darkened yard.  He'd finally start getting some answers, get back in control of the situation that was his life.  "Yes Clark, I did."  He turned around, still smiling.  "I've got something, something that needs to be taken care of."  He reached into his coat, taking out a black VCR tape.  "It's the tape from the security cameras at the plant."  He announced, setting it down between himself and Clark.  "And I don't think that the authorities need to find it." 

Lex tilted his head, watching Clark look at the tape.  He softly continued, "I was thinking that you might be the one to get rid of it."

Clark swallowed, eyes glued to the tape.  "Dad said you had to fill out a lot of paperwork about yesterday.  That there was governmental people everywhere."  He paused.  "Getting rid of it would be illegal, wouldn't it?"

"Completely.  Probably even a felony."  Lex replied.  And waited.

Clark was looking at the tape, lost somewhere between angry and confused.  "You want me to help you cover up what happened at the plant?  About Level III?"

The Luthor sighed.  "No, not really."  He pulled out a wooden chair, from the desk and sat on it directly across from Clark.  Looked him straight in the face.

Clark looked up from the tape, eyes narrowing.  "Not really?  Then why me?"

Lex grunted.  "Why you, indeed?  Do you know how much sleep I got last night Clark?  None."  Lex looked away, then back again.  His voice sneered.  "While you were off eating dinner with your family that was so happy to have you back and tucking yourself in bed for the night, I was interviewing plant personnel and filling out forms and dealing with those 'governmental people'.  So I think… that you ought to be the one to take care of this tape."

"Me?  Why me?"  Clark was glaring.  Lex could tell that Clark couldn't quite believe that he wanted him to do something… shady.  

Lex suddenly realized that he was angry.  Furious in fact.  Was Clark really that blind that he was trying to help?  "Clark," he snapped, "I'm not the one who has anything to hide."  Lex let that hang in the air before he continued.  "There are security cameras throughout the plant Clark, the whole thing is wired, watched, and taped."  He pointed to the tape.  "You're lucky I was 'upgrading the system' or the whole thing would be on record."

He sat back, satisfied at the shocked look of dawning realization on Clark's face.  Took him long enough.

"You're lucky I like you."  Lex added, just for good measure.  "I was up all night covering your tracks."

"Oh."

Lex leaned back, sighing.  "Take the tape, Clark.  Get rid of it.  Chop it into pieces, and then burn it, and scatter the ashes."  A flannel-covered arm was reaching for the tape.  "On one condition."  Clark was frozen.  Lex just watched.  "No more secrets, Clark."

Clark was pulling back, his face a mask of fear.  "I-"

Lex nearly swore.  Too far, too fast.  Whatever Clark was hiding, it was big.  He knew that.  The boy had secrets, secrets about how he could run so fast, be so strong.  Lex knew that if he could just figure it out, everything could become clear.  Somehow, he knew that Clark was more piece in the puzzle that was Smallsville.  And if Lex could just figure it out, everything would be fine.

But even if the farm boy didn't know squat about security systems, he at least knew enough to keep his mouth shut.  And so, Clark Kent was twitchier than any business deal Lex had ever worked.  But that's what made this so entertaining- between Clark's jumpiness, and Lex's actual desire not to hurt the farm boy- this was far more challenging than the tiresome crap factory his father had put him in charge of.

Lex stood up, grabbing the tape, and sat beside Clark on the couch.  He looked down at it, almost talking to himself.  Maybe if Clark could see where he was coming from, they could reach an understanding.  "My dad lied to me, you know.  He told me that there was no Level III.  I went in there blind; working off bad information, and it nearly got me killed.  Would have, if it weren't for you."  Lex took a deep breath, "I don't like being in the dark, Clark.  It always ends up hurting me."

"I… I'm sorry Lex."  Clark was whispering, and sounded really torn up inside.  And stubborn.  Clark had no doubt learned that from his father.  The Luthor re-evaluated his strategy, realizing that he could easily push things too far.

The older man nodded.  "Yes, I know."  He held the tape up in front of Clark.  "Two things, then.  Since… since you won't tell me.  First, I want you to admit that there is something.  No more denial.  You don't have to say anything, just don't lie to me."  Lex's face scrunched up.  "I can't take another someone I'm supposed to be able to trust betraying me like that again.  Daddy dearest lied to me, and I found out that when things looked bad, he ordered the fire doors closed, locking me in.  Wonderful to know how much he loves me."

Lex shook his head to clear it before continuing, "And second… when you do tell, you tell me first."  Lex looked at Clark, who was looking back.

Clark was nodding, and he took the tape.  "Deal."

Lex gave the younger man a warm smile.  "Good.  I want us to be friends Clark.  I really do.  But I have to be able to trust you."  He leaned back into the old couch, laughing to himself.  He'd never gotten so ripped off in a deal before, and been so happy about it. "I don't suppose I could get a thank you as well?  For all my hard work?"

"No."  Clark said, "'Cause you backed me into a corner."  He was still looking at the tape.

Lex dragged a hand over his bald head, sighing.  "Could have gone to the press, Clark."  Amazing how the teenager could kill his good mood.  "But friends watch out for each other.  Thought you'd appreciate it."

"I do, Lex."  Clark replied, frustrated, "I just… don't like-"

"What?  Being forced to be honest with someone you call 'friend'?  Or being forced to realize that things aren't as hidden as you'd like?  I get enough of that crap from my father, Clark.  I don't like having to drag the truth out of everyone I know, it gets tiring. And-" Lex bit off the rest of what he was going to say.  Clark was angry, and so was he.  Maybe he better leave before he managed to get them in a screaming match.  He stood up.

And stopped with Clark's hand on his arm.  "I'm not your father, Lex.  Don't judge me like I'm him.  I'd never treat you like he does, and I'd never keep anything from you that would hurt you.  That would hurt anyone."

Lex looked at the arm.  He answered, voice detached and thoughtful.  "I've never met anyone before that didn't have secrets that couldn't hurt anyone, Clark.  But I'm exhausted and short-tempered.  I should go home and get some sleep, I have to go to work tomorrow."

Clark dropped his arm.  "Yeah.  You probably need some sleep..."

Lex walked slowly towards the stairs.

"Lex?"

He turned back.  "Yes Clark?"

The young man looked sheepish.  "Thanks."  He ducked his head.  "I mean… for all the work… I…"

"You're welcome."  He smiled.  It would be alright- Clark just had to think about what Lex Luthor had done for him, and the he would realize that Lex was on his side.  

And then Clark would come clean.

Hopefully 'the big secret' would be something that would help him get even with his father for practically trying to kill him off.

"I'll walk you to your car."  Clark said, standing up.  He put the tape up on a shelf, turning towards Lex.

"Don't leave that there."  Lex motioned at the tape. "Don't let it out of your sight till you get rid of it."  

The older man sighed.  "You really do have a lot to learn about the big, bad world, don't you?"

Clark had turned around, picking the tape back up again.  "I guess."

Lex stomped down the stairs, muttering something about 'innocent babes' and 'going soft'.  Clark just followed him. 

////

Jonathan settled into his favorite recliner as Martha got her second cup of coffee.  "You shouldn't drink another cup dear, you'll never get to sleep tonight."  He flicked the remote, changing the channel to his favorite news program.

"I know, but it's my favorite- hazelnut crème.  I don't want to waste it."

"I'm surprised you didn't just brew up the decaf."

"Well, I wanted to serve the nice stuff."  She walked back into the room.  "I talked to Jenny today- her husband works at the plant you know," Jonathan nodded, he knew where Ricky worked.  "And Ricky had said that Lex Luthor managed to get the plant up and running by twelve thirty today."  

Jonathan grunted, turning up the volume.  "They've got another report about it."  Yesterday, they had rushed to the plant as soon as they had heard, but they hadn't realized that every reporter within a fifty-mile radius has rushed there as well.  Jonathan had been rather surprised at all the news coverage when they had finally gotten home.  He hadn't expected the rest of the country to care what happened in Smallsville.  They usually ignored anything else that happened here.

On the screen, a well-dressed petite blond reporter was smiling into the microphone.  Behind her LuthorCorp's Plant No. 3 could be seen.  

"Hello, this is Laura Nelson of WPB News reporting live with the follow-up report of LuthorCorp's latest incident.  Yesterday," The screen showed an insert of an air shot of the plant yesterday, police cars and swat teams crowded around the entrance, "a former LutherCorp employee took hostages of over twenty high school students on tour of this plant.  As you can see, the plant is currently up and running, even though it's past five o'clock.  The plant re-opened early this afternoon, after being cleared by the government's safety officials.  Plant officials have decided to run longer hours this week in order to make up for lost production and to prevent smaller paychecks from missed hours."

Offscreen, the news anchorman could be heard.  "So everything's back to normal?"

The reporter nodded, "All in all, LutherCorp has downplayed the entire incident, Jim.  Lionel Luther himself has stated that the reports of the severity of the situation were exaggerated-even returning to Metropolis for his planned 'night on the town' with his latest girlfriend, Ms. Renoff, yesterday night."

Jonathan didn't hear the anchorman's reply over Martha's indignation, "But they were held at gunpoint!  Including his own son, Lex!  I can't believe that… that… _man_ abandoned his own son after that to go on a- a _date_!"

He couldn't agree more.  The whole family had stayed in last night, just being near each other.  Clark may be nearly invulnerable, but bullets were another matter.  And his son took such risks… 

Martha kept talking, "I knew Lionel Luther was cold, but this!  I can't believe he'd just ignore what his son went through, just because it would be bad publicity!"

Jonathan grimaced, muttering, "I do."

The back door slammed, and Clark walked in, flopped down on the couch.  The young man looked around, noticed his parent's edginess, and was suddenly nervous.  "What's up?"

Martha gestured at the television set face still scrunched up, "Lex's father went back to Metropolis last night.  Left Lex to go on some date.  What kind of a father does that?  After what happened?"

Jonathan quickly looked behind him.  "Lex still here?"  He glanced pointedly at his wife, who had the grace to look guilty.

"Uh, no."  Clark muttered.  "He wanted to go to bed, said he hadn't gotten any sleep last night."

Martha had crossed her hands over her chest, coffee cup still in one hand.  "I bet _he_ wasn't happy his father left."

Clark winced, "actually, I think Lex would be happy if he never saw Lionel again.  They don't get along."

Martha replied, "but- still…"

"They don't get along, mom.  Lex doesn't really like his father, I think the only time they talk anymore is if it's about business."  Clark looked really uncomfortable.

Jonathan sighed, leaning forward, "I believe it.  Lionel never thought anything was important except for the bottom line.  Everything was business for him.  I'm still surprised that Lex isn't exactly like him."

Clark shifted nervously in his seat, "yeah, well, sometimes Lex is… all business, I mean."  Clark held up his hands, "Not that he's like his father, I mean, it's just that…"

"He's picked up some bad habits?"  Jonathan replied.  "Not surprising."

"Yeah."  Clark looked uncomfortable.  Jonathan wasn't surprised that Clark didn't like admitting Lex Luthor was perfect.

Martha took another sip of her coffee, "Well, we'll just have to show him a better way."  She nodded to herself, "he just needs role models."  She looked at her boys.  "We should invite him over more."

"Martha-"

"Jonathan-" She had moved over to stand by her husband's chair.

"Martha, he's over twenty.  Grown men don't change that much.  Besides-"

"Besides, he's just learning to live on his own.  Don't tell me you're all ready forgetting what he did at the factory, Jonathan.  Lex has a real chance to be different than Lionel, and I think we should support him."  

Jonathan sighed, and pulled Martha into his lap.  "Fine, we'll see what happens.  But don't try making this into a project, we'll just see what happens."

"Not a project, Jonathan."  The blond woman smiled, giving her husband a kiss.  "I just want to give that nice young man a chance for helping all those kids."

Jonathan gave a tortured sigh, kissing her back.  "What I do for you."

"What can I say," Martha put her coffee cup down, snaking her arms around Jonathan, "I can be very persuasive."

Clark stood up, mumbling, "I'm going to bed," and used his super-speed to leave the room.

Jonathan chuckled.  "I think we frightened him off."

////

Upstairs, Clark turned the black VCR tape over in his hands, trying to figure out why he hadn't told his parents.  The black box had dug into his back the whole time he had sat on the couch.  He had tucked it under his shirt, intending to tell them about it as soon as he could get the conversation turned around to it.  But he hadn't told them.  He guessed it had to do with what his dad said- Lex just had some bad habits.  It was probably perfectly natural for him to think he needed to be paid for his help.  Clark stuck the tape under his pillow, and set his alarm for 2am before sticking the alarm under the pillow as well.  He could probably watch the tape undisturbed then.  He needed to see what was on it before he got rid of it.

////

Author's Notes:  I don't have a beta.  Try to forgive those annoying little mistakes.  In return, I'll try to have Chapter 2b up as soon as possible. (HINT: anybody up for beta?)

Also, I'd like to point out that Lex Luthor, at this point in time, is still not a nice person- he just has a shot at changing his future now.  But, he's still quite the bastard.  He would (IMHO) honestly think that his little 'deal' with Clark was a good deed.

Author's Rant: The Kents don't have dogs.  Whoever heard of a farm without dogs?

Author's Notes:  I know Superman is bullet-proof.  But I didn't think the Kents knew that yet.  

I know where I'm going with this fic, but I don't have laid out plans on how to get there.  Does anyone have an opinion on when Clark should let his parents know that Lex is figuring it out?

Author's Rant: CORN?  They grow wheat in Kansas.  Nebraska is corn.  I should know- my husband grew up there, and that's all you see when you drive through the state- 'amber waves of grain'.  


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 

As usual, Pete and Chloe were walking beside Clark when they came out of school at the end of the day.  Lex's car was idling by the curb; Lex himself was sitting in the driver's seat, talking on his cell phone.

Pete clapped Clark on the shoulder.  "Hey, look who's here.  Bet I know who he wants to talk to!"

Clark Kent groaned, wishing that he hadn't mentioned that his folks had invited Lex over for dinner.  Not everyone in town had changed their opinion about Lex Luthor after what had happened at the plant.  In fact- most people thought that it only proved the Luthors had something to hide.  And Pete liked to tease, even if he didn't believe Lex was Smallsville's worst enemy. 

The dark haired teenager walked up to the Porsche, tapping on the side.

Lex motioned Clark to join him, while saying into his phone, "Of course.  By Wednesday will be fine.  But no later."  Opening the door, Clark slid into the seat throwing his backpack at his feet as Lex ended the call, "I'll call again on Monday.  Goodbye."  Lex smirked at the handset as he set it in its cradle, peeling out of the parking lot leaving Chloe and Pete standing on the curb. 

"Damn consultants-" He yelled over the squeal of his tires, "they think that just because it's so close to Christmas they can bump back their deadlines.  I don't care that half the office is on vacation- we had agreed to a deadline, they should keep it." 

Clark shook his head, "Whatever, man.  Can we talk?"

Lex shook his head, mouthing, 'NOT HERE!'  While out loud he said, "What about?"

Clark stuttered, mind racing… "L- L- Lana?"  

The bald man laughed as he pealed around another corner.  "Ahh… the life and love of Clark Kent.  You're a rather complicated young man, Clark.  School and women- you remind me of myself several years ago."  Lex leered, "But I'm willing to bet that your grades are better than mine were."  Lex pointed the car out of town, announcing, "I know just the place to talk…"

////

Clark walked along the top of the fallen tree beside the muddy creek, wondering why Lex had chosen to leave the car beside the road; The billionaire's heir was trudging through the mud beside him in what was undoubtedly very expensive shoes.  Brown leaves crunched underfoot, the bare branches of the trees swayed overhead.  Clark had offered Lex a hand up to walk atop the fallen tree, but Lex had shook his head, saying 'I don't have your balance.'

"So," Lex said, brushing at another fallen log with one hand before sitting down, "that was a good save, but what did you really want to talk about?"

Clark blinked, "Security systems, mostly.  I… looking in the town library, and didn't really find anything."

"You won't.  The internet isn't the best shot either, unless you know what sites to check out.  I suppose you're trying to find out how they work?"  To Clark's nod, he continued, "the best sites will tell you how to get around most systems, but the more complicated systems may require meeting people face-to-face.  And most of those people are professional thieves.  Not the type you'd normally hang out with, Clark.  Unless you want to become a bank robber?"

"No!"

Lex laughed.  "Thought not.  You're too honest.  But I'll get the web sites for you.  For free, even."  Lex brightly asked, "What else did you want to talk about?"

"Ah… the tape…"

Lex sighed, "Gone, I hope?"

"Yes."  Clark said, giving Lex a flat look, "Unless you kept a copy."

The young man who had been taught on his daddy's knee about shady business deals and contract loopholes laughed.  "I was wondering if you'd catch that."  He gave Clark his most winning smile, "But it's quite safe- locked away, miss-labeled, and encoded.  I wouldn't worry."  He leaned back, looking up. "Anything else?"

Clark scrunched his face.  "I didn't tell my folks."

"Good.  I doubt your father would understand."

"And…" The winter breeze blew, making Lex shiver.  Clark saw it and asked, "Why did you want to come out here anyway?  It's colder than in the car."  

Lex shrugged, then softly said, "my dad knows too much.  I used to think it was because the staff was keeping him informed, but it's more than that.  I think he's bugged the house.  And maybe my car."  He looked at Clark.  "I don't have any proof, but if I want to keep secrets from him, I'm going to have to be careful.  I can't say anything that I don't want him to know while in the mansion, or my car.  I'm even going to have to watch what I do in the mansion, since it's possible he's got cameras there as well."

"That's… really paranoid."  Clark lamely finished.

"Is it?"  Lex gave a small smile.  "You have to remember, it's not about money for my father.  He's got more than enough cash to have me under total surveillance 24 hours a day without batting an eye or feeling the pinch in his pocketbook.  It's not about trust either.  He doesn't bother to keep me in the loop for all his dirty deals, why does he need to know what I think of him or what he does?  

"You see, it's all about control."  Lex said, "Every car I buy, all my large expenses, he's the one who pays for it.  Every decision I make at the plant, he's the one who gives it the 'go ahead'.  He watches me, trying to figure out when I'll mess up, when I'll screw up- whenever I don't measure up to the 'Luthor Way'.  He wants me to be perfect, Clark.  And perfect means I'll be just like him."

"So you make secret deals and keep back information just like him?"  Clark muttered.

The older man leaned back, looking out from under half closed eyes.  "If I have to.  I know I need to get away from him, Clark.  I'd really rather not be his mirror image- but what else am I going to do?"

"I don't know- tell him to get lost?"  Clark shot back.

Lex laughed.  "And be put out on the streets?  Or checked into an institution, drugged out of my mind?  I wouldn't put it past him, you know."  Lex leaned forward, "I just have to be sneaky about being nice.  That's all."  Lex paused, then cut Clark's response off.  "For example- that janitor that held me at gunpoint?"

-"Earl-"

"Whoever.  He's still at the hospital in Metropolis right now."  Lex shook his head; personally, he couldn't care less about the man's name.  The janitor had tried to kill him- even if he did have a reason- Lex's generosity only went so far.  It would have to be enough that he had arranged medical care.  

"Don't know how much we can do for him.  Daddy dearest wanted to 'ease his suffering- permanently', not try to fix him."  Lex flicked his eyes over horrified expression of the young man sitting across from him, "but I mentioned 'military applications of his condition (if we can control and isolate it)' to my father, and he finally shut up.  That's what I mean when I say I have to be sneaky."

"Earl…  He's that bad?"  Clark looked truly concerned, so Lex answered.  

"Unfortunately.  Unlike you, his body can't handle the increased speed.  His nervous system can't control his muscles when they contract that fast- so he shakes.  And his metabolism can't handle the increased activity, either.  He's literally burning himself out."

"I'm… not that fast."  Lex gave him a flat look.  Clark sighed.  "Sorry, I know, no denial, but…" Clark looked away, "I thought he was getting better.  I heard something on the news about him being better."

"Better, yes.  But not cured.  Heavy muscle relaxers, nerve blockers, some other stuff.  But his liver is going to give out sooner or later, and he's barely coherent.  The drugs are pretty strong."  Lex shrugged again, "And that's the difference between truth and my father's PR men.  You can't trust them.  Ergo, you can't trust my father, and one has to be very, very… _sly_ about getting anything done around _him_."  Lex paused, "at least I had a good example in the old man."

"Oh."  Clark began to pace the log he was standing on.  "But…  why do you feel like you have to be just like your father to get things done?  Why can't you be _better_ than him?  All this underhanded stuff, it's not the best way, Lex."

"This from a man who's keeping his own secrets."  The irony was heavy in Lex's voice. 

Clark sighed, stopping.  "Yeah, well.  I just wish…"

"Wish?  So do I.  I wish that my father wouldn't try to stop me at every turn.  I wish that people didn't look at me like I was some sort of evil monster when I walk down the street.  I wish I could clear up my name- that Luthor Corp wasn't listed as one of the worst companies to work for with high turnover and poor benefits.  You know what happened last time we hit a small downturn- my father wanted me to lay off a large percentage of the workforce.  I had to jump through a lot of hoops to stop him."

"Wish things could be better."  Clark said, looking wistfully over the small stream.

"So do I."  Lex stood up, turned to walk back.  "Tell yourself what I do, Clark.  Tell yourself –'things will get better.  I just have to wait'.  It keeps you going."  They kept walking, Lex adding, "And about Lana?"

"Lana?  Oh… she and Whitney are still going out."

"Woman is blind as a bat, Clark.  She'll be kicking herself when she finally grows up."

"Yeah.  I keep telling myself that."

////

Author's Notes:  Sorry this is so late- I was gone for the holidays, and now I'll be gone this weekend as well.  **Sigh**  

Author's Rant:  In keeping with my 'rant' tradition- Hey, how come Clark's clothes make it through every scrape intact?  Shouldn't we be seeing a lot more naked Clark?  Huh?  Smirk


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 

The whole high school was at Lex's New Year's Eve Party.  In theory, this was 'Lana's' party, in return for some favor Lex owed Nell.  Everybody knew the excuse was weak, but nobody cared.  Lex had told Clark yesterday that he wanted everyone to know that he was throwing them a party.  It was good publicity; for public opinion around town.  At least with the younger set. 

Clark looked out over the balcony at the partygoers below.  The giant digital clock mounted against the wall was counting down to midnight, the disc jockey was busy playing a slow dance, and Lana and Whitney were wrapped in a close embrace.

"Clark, you are a lll..lost cause."

He turned.  "Pete."

"Hey man, you really should give up."  Pete snickered, coming to look over the rail.

Clark sighed.  "I'm just watching the crowd."

"Yeah right."

"Really."

"Yeah right."  Pete shrugged, holding up his glass, "you should hit the punch, somebody spiked it."  Pete looked around, pretending to be sneaky, "betcha I know whoo…oo…"

"Oh really?"  Clark tilted his head, looking Pete up and down, trying to figure him out.  He was acting strangely.  Heartbeat down, speech slurred…

"Football team."  Pete said, nodding slowly.  Clark blinked.  Pete was smashed.  "It's always them, isn't it?"

"Usually."  Clark smiled.  "Come on, buddy.  Let's go get some food.  I'm starved."  Idly, Clark wondered what being drunk felt like.  But he couldn't risk it- he might hurt someone or say something he shouldn't.

////

"Well Clark, like my party?"  Clark turned from the buffet table, seeing Lex step away from a group of chattering teenagers.  Pete had staggered off to get more punch.

"It's all right."  Clark shrugged.

"Good to see at least one of my guests who hasn't snuck in a flask, popped pills, or started smoking weed in my bathrooms."  Lex rolled his eyes.  "And I thought country folk were rather innocent."

Clark gave Lex a small smile.  "There isn't much to do in this town besides get wasted.  Or at least, that's what some people think."

"Not surprised.  Smallville is rather provincial."  Lex glanced around, and then leaned close.  "Stay late."  He whispered, before continuing, "Lana went that way- without Whitney."

////

Pete was draped over one arm, laughing about something.  Clark had forgotten the joke- and was rethinking just how 'fun' getting blasted out of his mind would be.  Last he had seen Whitney, the man had been puking in the bathroom into the tub.  And Pete was being an _idiot_.  

"Come on man… I can make it- I'm not that drunk."

"You're wasted, Pete.  I'll drive you home, don't worry about it."

"Awww… man.  My folks will be pissed if they find out I needed a ride tonight."

"You're drunk Pete.  I'm not letting you drive."

Lex walked up, shaking his head.  "Remind me- no more favors for Nell.  My security has had a wonderful time keeping everyone out of my private rooms, and half my guests got so drunk I can't let them drive home without risking a lawsuit."

"Including Pete."  Clark said.  

"Hey, I'm not that drunk."  The young man whined.

"I need to drive him home."  Clark told Lex, rolling his eyes.

"Damn."  Lex mumbled, running a hand over his smooth head.  "Well, your dad's truck is right next to the house- it's blocked in, half the cars in my driveway aren't going to get picked up till morning.  And I sent the limo to take the football team home."  Lex reached into his pocket, pulling out his keys.  "Here.  Take my car- it's by the gate.  Just hit this button here for the alarm."  He looked at Pete.  "You aren't going to get sick are you?"

"No man, I'm cool."

"Your car?  Are you sure?"

Lex shrugged.  "I'd drive him, but I shouldn't leave.  It's no big deal."  Lex smirked, "in fact, I'll probably stick you with chauffeuring duty when you get back- I've got at least twenty more guests that could use a ride."

////

Clark dragged himself up the steps of Lex Luthor's impressive stone mansion.  He pushed the door open, looking back at the lightening sky.  He groaned, stepping back inside.  "Lex?"  He called.

"Clark."  Lex called back from the upper balcony.  "That was the last- the rest are just going to sleep it off.  Do you want to crash here, or go home?"

"Home?  Oh crap- I forgot-" Clark looked panicked.

Lex waved a hand- "I called your folks hours ago, and told them that you were driving people home for me.  They said that it was acceptable."

"Acceptable?"  Clark asked.

"You dad was rather groggy.  It was more of 'Sure… tell 'em not to forget his chores in the morning.' "

Clark looked at his watch.  "Oh damn, I need to go home."

"Fine by me.  But you truck is still blocked in.  I'll drive you."  Lex turned around, quickly walking down the stairs.

"Sure?"  Clark asked as he yawned, "it's really late- you probably want to get to bed."

The older man only chuckled.  "This isn't _that_ late, Clark.  The sun's barely up.  Come on, I'll take you."  He held out his hand, and Clark tossed him the keys.  "Well, did you like her?"

Clark smiled, ruffling his hair.  "Your car?  She's fast, man.  Corners great too."

Lex laughed.  

It didn't take long for Lex to drive Clark home in the early dawn light.  The sporty car pulled quietly into the gravel driveway, and cutting the engine, Lex jumped out.  He tilted his head towards the barn, and the two of them headed over.

"Clark."  Lex whispered.  "I wanted to ask you something, while no one was watching."

"What?"  Clark was instantly nervous.  Lex had ignored 'the secret' for these last few weeks, not even needling Clark a single time.

"That janitor.  From the plant- the one in the hospital."

"Earl?"

"Yes."  Lex sighed.  "He's dying, Clark.  I've managed to get my father to spend almost half a million dollars on his treatment in this last month, but he's not going to make another week."  Lex paused, leaning against the barn door.  He turned towards the sun, watching the pink sunrise.  "And I promised myself that I wouldn't push you, but I thought that you should know.  There's a possibility, a small hope- but it depends on you."

Clark gulped, whispering, "What?"

"I've thought about it."  Lex nodded to himself.  "And… well.  You know how you've adapted to the higher speeds without any negative side effects?  The doctors can't cure him, but they might be able to… permanently adjust his metabolism, like your obviously has adjusted."

Clark shivered, suddenly cold.  "What are you saying, Lex?"

The older man shrugged his shoulders.  "Simple, really.  If the doctors could figure out how speed up his entire body- his nerves and metabolism, and not just his muscles- then they could cure him.  They're working in the dark, however.  They don't even know where to start- let alone what the final product would be.  They'd need to study a working, well adjusted subject in order to reproduce the results in the time frame we have."  Lex watched Clark, "The doctors would need to evaluate you, Clark."

Clark Kent shuttered, face bleached white.  "C..C..Can't."  He shook his head.  "No.  I…"

"Clark- I could keep my father from finding out who you are.  I could keep anyone from finding out.  I've got friends at some universities that could run the tests- they aren't allied with anyone."

"No."  Clark shook his head, backing up.

"Clark, I wouldn't ask.  But he's going to die without help.  I know you're a good guy, Clark.  And you are the only person on the entire planet who could help him- the doctors need a living human subject to figure out how to fix him."  Lex begged, unwilling to mention how much he really needed to determine a 'cure' in order to appease his father.

"N.. n.. no."  Clark shook his head, "I… I can't.  I don't… think I'd be able to help, Lex."  He looked down.  "I'm sorry."  Clark turned away.

"Clark, he's going to die."  Lex watched, almost in wonder, as Clark- the man who had risked his life several times for others_-_ walked towards the house.  

"I-  I can't help."  Clark sounded lost.

Lex sighed, and headed back to his car.  "I'll talk to you later, big guy."  He didn't hear Clark's reply, too lost in confusion on why the young man wouldn't help.  Clark- damn it, the whole Kent family- was always willing to help anyone who needed it.  They were generous to a fault.

Lex drove home in silence, trying to figure it out.  He remembered lunch with the Kents on Christmas day.  He, and another family had come over.  He didn't really remember the other family's names- but it didn't take a genius to figure out that he may have been there for the company; they were there for the food.  The kids sure ate enough, anyway.  Before Christmas Martha had spent hours working with their church's charity drive for food, clothing, and toys for the poor living in the area.  Even Clark had helped out with the drive- when he was finished with his schoolwork, of course.  And Jonathan had spent his time helping a friend with his roof.  Lex had been stunned that Jonathan didn't expect to get paid for his help.  

But Clark wouldn't help out an old family friend?  Even when it meant the man would die?

Why was Clark so terrified of doctors and medical tests?

Lex pulled into his own driveway, turning off the car and burying his head in his hands.  He had managed to get his father to spend near a half million dollars on that nameless janitor- and the man was going to die.  His father was furious- 'wasted money, wasted resources'.  It would have been acceptable if the man would have gotten healthy, the good PR would have made the expenditure worth it.  Or even if they could have learned something marketable- like how to reproduce the effects.  But now…

And naturally, it was just another example of Lex's poor business sense.  The unforgivable crime in the Luthor handbook.

Lex lifted his head, walked back to his manor.  He could deal with his father.

But he still wondered about Clark's reluctance to help.  What about doctors would scare a young man sp much?  With narrowed eyes, Lex entered the front door.  

It was time to call his investigative reporter.

////


	5. Chapter 5

The pipes of the plant made hissing noises as the methane within them traveled along their lengths.  Harsh lights lit the interior, while three men stopped along their way.  At this bend, the pipe supports rattled, making the hum of the pumps echo in the concrete corridor.

"So, why is it making that noise?"  Lex asked, eyeing the pipe distrustfully.  "It passed the safety check last month."

The two workmen beside him shrugged.  They were wearing jeans and flannel shirts, tool belts around their waists.  One's hair was white with age, the other's black hair was just starting to gray.  The older one answered the man in the business suit.  "Dunno, sir.  Could be a sloppy weld- if the inside of the pipe is rough, it'll cause turbulence.  We've upped the pressure about 20psi over what was our standard since the, ah, accident.  To increase production like you said.  The welds in the pipes should be good for another 20 to 30psi more than this, but maybe this one was faulty."

"But we gotta shut her down."  The other said.  "She won't blow now, but banging around like that?  Give it a week- and you'll have a good 'ol boom."  The old man drug one hand through his straggly salt and pepper beard as he nodded to himself.

"Crap."  Lex Luthor sighed.  "Schedule the Work Order for after hours, I don't care about the overtime- we can't take the plant down for one pipe.  Get it done as soon as possible too, preferably tonight.  I don't want to risk our personnel."

"Sure thing, sir.  I'll draw up the Work Order right away, schedule our team."  He nodded.  "I just have one more thing I want you to look at-"

The shrill sound of a cell phone cut him off, and Lex lifted the headset from his pocket, swearing at the caller ID.

"Hold on a minute. "  Lex waved a hand.  "Lex Luthor."

The voice on the other end was calm, as always.  "Son."  A pause.  "Where are you?"

"Checking out the plant floor, father."  Lex sneered, "Some things take a hands-on approach."  He motioned the two men to follow as he walked from the noise.

"You should let your managers do that."  The voice on the other end replied, disinterested.  It continued, "I read your report."

"My year-end report?"  Lex answered with a bit of irony.

"There was another?"  The reply was just as sarcastic.

Lex sighed.  "So, father.  What did you think?"

"If you were any worse, I'd have to re-assign you."  His father purred.  "We do have worse places, you know."

"I'm in the black, father."  Lex ground out.  "And profits are increasing."

"Clever book-keeping."  A clear dismissal.

"Your accountants, father."

A quick grunt could be heard over the phone, "And needless expenditures."

"Father-"

"A daycare, son?  What do you think we are, a charity organization?"

Lex gritted his teeth.  "My reasons for installing daycare facilities on the plant grounds where clearly outlined in my report.  The daycare is fully funded by fees levied against the families participating.  Funds for the daycare are not provided by the general funds, the seed money provided by the plant for initiation of the facility is being paid back at a reasonable rate of interest, and the convenience of having the facility on site will increase production by reducing sick leave and late arrivals."

"You're not running a sufficient profit margin on the program to warrant its continuation."  His father sounded bored, as if he was tired of repeating himself.

"Not enough profit from the program?"  Lex asked, sounding upset.  "It's a benefit!  Not a profit making enterprise!"

"An unnecessary waste of time."

"The program is in the black, father.  Lecture me about something else."  Lex ground out.

"Renovating the cafeteria?"

"Of course.  The food's lousy.  Everyone brings their lunch- and we are loosing money with the kitchen we have now.  With an update of facilities, we can provide a better variety of menu items at reasonable prices. "  Lex added sweetly, "and that would bring in a profit."

 "And-"

"Father."  Lex cut in, "why don't you just tell me that you don't want me to do anything differently than you would have?  That changing anything is against your rules?"

There was a cold silence on the other end.

"Fine.  We can talk more later, I'm busy."  Lex stayed on the line, waiting for-

"Very well, son."  His father hung up, and Lex followed suit.  He couldn't hang up on dear old dad, the man would just get angry and order him to cut one of the borderline programs.  Lex didn't need that frustration.  

So, sighing heavily for the two men still standing behind him, Lex turned, "What else, did you say?"  He asked, plastering a completely fake smile on his face.

The men turned, blabbering on about some other minor detail that Lex could have let his lower management handle.  But this afternoon had served its purpose- his father had called during his predictable afternoon break, and it had been easy to stage it so that plant personnel overheard his conversation.  The rumor about his confrontation with his father for providing the new benefits would all over the plant by weeks end.  

This little exercise was all about loyalty.  As in these men's loyalty for him, not his father.

////

Lex paced the cold concrete floor of the underground garage that housed the wrecked remains of his last car.  He glanced at it again, twisted form glinting under the harsh lights.  He looked down, at the pages in his hand.

Clark Kent's medical records stared back at him.  It was a light load, only three pages.  Two for the state-ordered physical when the Kents adopted him, one sheet claiming the Kents had religious objections to the required immunizations for school attendance.

Lex, who had a mountain of pages in his file for his childhood asthma and all subsequent physicals, was floored.

"Damn it Clark, you're inhumanly healthy, impossibly strong, impossibly fast," Lex looked at the broken pieces of steel that once was a sleek automobile, "and… I'm guessing quite impact proof."

He sighed, walking over to drop the thin pages into their respective place in the metal filing cabinet against the wall.  He hit the lights, muttering to himself.  "Perfectly healthy- Even if the janitor is dead."

////

Lex sat gingerly on the steel stool in the old barn.  It was cold and dusty in here, the gas heater in the corner barely keeping up with the cold Kansas afternoon.  He felt uncomfortable in a stranger's home- let alone watching the man work while he just sat there.  But he had been driving Clark around for a few errands for Martha, and they had dropped by one of Jonathan's friends to return a tool.

Naturally, Clark had been asked 'could you give me a quick hand in the shop?'.  Lex was willing to bet that lots of people in Smallville took advantage of the Kent's generosity.

Sitting in a strange barn watching two men do woodwork was not one of his normal Saturday activities, but it beat sitting alone at home.  Even if his eyes were watering from the dust.  Lex sneezed, glancing up at Clark.

In front of him, Clark was busy holding the other end of a long board as the man- Jones?  Johnson? Lex couldn't remember- fed it through a saw.  The saw was merely a thin metal strip with teeth on one side.  It looked to be a large hoop, actually, with two large wheels- one above and one below.  The motor turned the wheels, which made the metal band turn at very fast rate, which cut the wood.  Lex thought it was called a band saw- but he had certainly never used one.

"Thank for the help, Clark.  I need to split these boards, but I can't do it alone."

"Not a problem, Mr. Jones."  Clark set the two long pieces against the wall.  "But you aught to put the safety guards back on."

"I know- I had to fix the motor- and didn't know you'd be by.  Had a power surge two days ago- burnt out my table saw completely, singed this motor too."

"Ah."

"Only have three more."

They worked in silence for a while, Lex glancing around.  One wall held tools hanging on a pegboard, another stacked boards, a third a long counter and cabinets, and the last had the two closed barn doors.

Luthor sighed in boredom.  He watched the two men run the boards past the saw.  Clark suddenly dropped the board, a large popping noise snapped into the air, and Lex hadn't even seen Clark move to the other side of the saw, one arm outstretched-

"CRAP!"  Mr. Jones yelled, jumping back and stumbling onto the floor.  Lex stood up, walking over even as Clark turned away from Mr. Jones.  Lex watched as Clark pulled something from his arm, dropping it into the floor.  The motor was making a high-pitched whine.

"What happened?"  Lex asked.

Mr. Jones dragged himself to his feet.  "Damn band broke- Clark, you okay?"

"Fine, Mr. Jones."  Clark was looking over the half-sawn board.  "You hit a nail."

"Crap."  He hit the off button, bending over to look.  "Damn thing- at those speeds woulda tore the metal right up.  Clark, you sure you're all right?"  Lex walked over, looking at Clark.

"Sure, Mr. Jones."

"Your sleeve-"

The young man stammered out, "Whoa.  Edge must have caught it…  Guess I'm lucky."  

Lex sighed.  Clark _really_ needed acting lessons.  Time to step in again.  He glared at his watch.  "Clark- if you're done here, could we go?  I've got some work to do."  Generations of breeding turned that question into an order.  Lex then stalked towards the door, acting as if Clark would follow.

"Ah… sure Lex."  Clark gave a shy smile to Mr. Jones, almost jogging towards the exit.

They clambered into the car, Lex pulling out even as Clark closed the door.  He couldn't help but chuckle.  "We were going to the bakery next, weren't we?"

"Ah…" Clark was fiddling with his shirt, tugging at the shredded fabric on his arm.  "Yeah."

"I don't remember what Martha wanted, do you?" 

"Uh… It's on the list."

"Damn."  Lex said, "I left it on the table- we better go back."

"Oh, but-" Clark was reaching into his pockets.

Lex leaned over, tugging aside Clark's jacket.  Looked meaningfully at Clarks torn cloths- his shirt, his jeans, even his belt was cut.  The older man couldn't help but notice Clark's smooth, untouched skin underneath.

The word 'untouchable' ran through Lex's head.  Instead of questions, Lex asked, "Clark, what classes are you taking this spring?"

"Oh… History, English, Math, Study Hall… I'm taking art and helping Chloe with The Torch after school."

"Good choices."  Lex said, "But I'd recommend Speech.  Maybe drama.  It will help your self-confidence.  Maybe you'll even be able to ask Lana out."

'_And maybe you'll even be able to lie_', thought Lex.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 

The sleek Porsche purred over the gravel drive, rumbling to a stop.  Its driver looked out, giving a little wave to the two men in the front yard before stepping out.  

"Great day, Mr. Kent."  Lex said, walking up to Jonathan and Clark, who were passing a football back and forth between them.  Clark yelled hello.

"Yes, it is.  Warmed up from last couple of weeks, hasn't it?  Almost feels like spring."  Jonathan threw the ball back to his son with a little grunt.

"I'd hardly call this _warm_."  Lex replied, "more like 'pleasantly cool'."

"Warm enough to throw without thick gloves."  Jonathan caught the ball with one neat hand.  "And no wind- we decided to barbeque today."  He waved a hand towards the barn, where Lex could see a barbeque grille letting off wisps of smoke.  "We're having steak."  He threw the ball back.

"Sounds wonderful.  I'm sure Martha is going to do her normal excellent job of cooking.  Surprised she let you put the grill so far from the house."

Jonathan gave a little laugh.  "Didn't want us to knock it over throwing the ball.  But Martha doesn't barbeque- she says that it's a man's job to stand outside over a hot fire."  Clark threw the ball back, and Jonathan caught it.

"Oh really?"

"Of course."  Jonathan looked over at Lex, "you never barbequed growing up?"

Lex shrugged, "I suppose the cook did, I just ate what they put in front of me."

"Oh."  Jonathan held the ball up.  "Want to play?"

Lex looked down at the ball like it might bite.  "Uh… sure.  What do I do?"

Jonathan smiled.  "Stand there, and catch."  He backed up a little, and gently lobbed the ball.  Lex grasped at it with two hands, it tumbled in his arms, but he managed to keep it from hitting the ground.  "Good.  Now throw it back."

Lex did, with a hesitant underhand throw.  Jonathan stepped forward to scoop it from the air.  Lex shook his head.  "Don't think I've got the hand of this."

Clark laughed, walking closer.  "You've just never tried before, Lex.  What did you say- golf and polo?"

"For a couple years at prep."  Lex shrugged.  "Dropped it as soon as I fulfilled my phys Ed requirement.  Too busy."

The older blond man sighed, giving the ball a little toss up in the air before he caught it again.  "Well, you'll just have to learn.  If you're game."

"Sure, why not?"  The bald man put on a brave front.

Later on, Martha was greeted to an unusual sight when she came out to ask 'her boys' when the meat would be ready.  Even if she thought that it was perfectly normal.  Lex was laughing at Clark for having to scramble after his wildly thrown pass and even her husband was hiding his smile behind one large hand.

////

Lex Luthor walked back into his mansion, tossing his overcoat at the doorman.  The late evening sun was glancing through the windows, casting the rest of the entryway into shadow.

"Where have you been?"  The voice was icy.

"Father."  Lex looked up, slowing his pace.  "What a pleasant surprise."  He didn't quite have the level of sarcasm in his words he wanted, but it was close.  "What brings you to Smallville?"

"Checking up on you."  Came the sneering reply.  "I've wasted a perfectly good afternoon flying up here to deal with another one of **your** problems."

The younger man's mind was racing.  "Which problem?"  The plant was under control- no one had called.  He wasn't aware that there _was_ a problem, but he knew better than to admit that.  Another painful lesson he had learned.

His father was glaring down at him from the second story banister- classic intimidation technique, to stand on higher ground.  Lionel gave Lex a bitter smile.  "Let's start over.  Where.  Were.  You?"

Lex shrugged, "Lunch."  He paused, then raised an eyebrow, "at the Kents."  His father wasn't seriously upset about _that_, was he?

"Till five?"  Distain.

"Yes."  No information.  He knew better than to show his hand.  Damn it, what was it about every conversation with his father that made him feel like he was twelve again, caught sneaking out at night?

"I find it hard to believe that you would let yourself be so taken by such obvious gold-diggers, dear son."

Good… grief… he really _was_ upset about him eating over there!  "I really don't think-"

Lionel waved his son quiet.  "No.  Not now, of course.  Just want to be friends.  They appreciate your work for the town, for your work at the plant.  Maybe even that ridiculous stunt you pulled for that nameless Negro.

"Which, by the way, I still think you should admit was a waste of time.  It's not like it's hard to replace an Uncle Tom.  Always more where that one came from."

Lionel began to walk down the stairs, "No, the Kents will be quite giving, son."  He paused.  "Until they need something.  Then… a quiet request, and just a little favor… you get the idea."

His father glared down at him.  "I raised you better than that."

"Father."  Lex ground out.

Lionel sighed.  "Don't bother arguing.  Just remember."  He walked past his son, gesturing to the forward sitting room.  "No matter what you think, I don't really enjoy 'I told you so's'.  And… about your proposed management restructuring…." 

Lex trudged after his father, wishing he could feel less like another faceless minion right now.  Wishing that the time and ability to beat his father down would hurry up. 

Or at least go back and have another lesson with Jonathan on throwing a ball.  Lex didn't even wonder at how the farmer made him feel more at ease than his own father. 

////

Author's Notes:  Since I'm not getting these out as fast as I'd like, I'm forgoing a beta in the interest of speed.  However, I'm woefully uninformed of Superman cannon when it comes to topics from any other source than the television show 'Smallville'.  Therefore, I shall try and ask people before I make assumptions, but y'all may have to forgive me of some slip-ups before we are done.  

If anyone out there is a stickler for cannon, maybe you could let me e-mail **you**?

Lastly, I see Lionel as more than a little racist (he'd cover it, for political reasons, but…).  I think it fills out his bastard personality well.  Therefore, I mean for him to be a little condescending about Earl Jenkins, the janitor.  He neither knew the man well, nor wanted to- Lionel would be just the one to make unflattering assumptions.  Flames for Lionel's words will be laughed at.

Author's Rant:
    
    Rule #1 of international travel:
    
    Your itinerary is subject to change at the whim of airline companies.  This possibility is directly proportional to the degree of remoteness of the airports involved, but it is never eliminated- even in the busiest airports of the most technologically advanced countries in the world. Hence, my flight got canceled, and now I'm rescheduling.  Grrr….


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 

Chapter 7

"And that's the big dipper."  Clark pointed up at the stars, "If you follow the line of those two stars, it points to the north star."

"Huh."  Lex said.  They were sitting out in the field behind Clark's barn on an old blanket.  Lex had made a comment about Clark's fascination with the sky, and Clark had gleefully talked him into coming out here.  Lex was humoring him, just to get him away from the house.  The warm spell had past, and Lex was chilled, despite his hat, gloves, scarf and heavy coat.

"It's always due north.  Ancient mariners- guys on ships- used to use it for navigation."

"I prefer a GPS.  More accurate."

Clark snickered.  "They didn't have computers, Lex.  Just the stars.  And some rough maps.  Things were less technical back then."

"Well, we've come a long way."  Lex rocked back on his heels, looking at the sky.  There were more stars out tonight than he had ever seen in Metropolis.  Not that he had ever really looked.  "Mankind has been to the moon.  We'll go to Mars next."

"Yes."  Clark paused, "but they're not likely to get out of the solar system in the next hundred years."  Somehow, the young Kent sounded impossibly sad.

"Ah-ha!"  Lex jokingly said, "I've found you out!  You want to be a spaceman when you grow up!"  He wanted to keep the conversation light, not let Clark slide into a funk.  "Like that TV show, Star Trek!"

"Maybe."  He mumbled.

It was hopeless.  Lex sighed, might as well get this over with.  "You know, if you're not going to be in a good mood, can I tell you why I canceled last week?"

"Huh?  You said that you're dad came by, and gave you a lot of extra work to do." 

Lex shook his head, wondering again how Clark could be so innocent.  "Yes, but I could have found the time- if he hadn't practically told me to 'stop associating with the lower set.'  He's more than a little concerned about class distinctions."

"Uh… Lex?  We live in America, not the Middle Ages.  Feudal Lords stayed over in Europe- we don't have class distinctions."

Lex snickered.  Then laughed.  "Oh… Clark.  Tell me that after I drag you off to a high society function in Metropolis.  You'll never be that naïve again."

"No thanks.  I have no desire to see one of those."

Lex waved a hand.  "But that's not why I came over today, even if my father will make disappointed noises at me.  He's cooled off now; I can go on ignoring him.  What I wanted to talk to you about is that fact that he knew where I was.  I know he's got at least one plant in the house- but I haven't been telling them where I go to when I come over."

Clark looked around, suddenly nervous.  "He's got someone watching you?"

"I know he's had someone assigned to me at the house.  And the plant.  But outside that?  Possibly."  Actually, Lex thought his father had just put a tracker bug in his car, or maybe his cell phone.  But Clark needed to learn some paranoia.  "And that worries me.  If he sees me hanging out with you, he'll want your family watched as well."

Lex had thought long and hard about this part.  He had thought about bugging the Kent's home himself, but didn't see how he could get the materials without alerting his father.  And he didn't want to share anything he found with the old man- so, if he couldn't find out anything from bugging the Kents, neither should his father.  Therefore he was warning them.

Lex sighed loudly, "I'm afraid he'll have your home wired.  Anything you say, your parents say, would be recorded."  

"Oh."  Clark sounded worried.

"I thought you should know."  Lex smiled to himself.  "Since we have secrets we want to keep from my old man- like your speed."  And strength, and invulnerability, Lex silently added.  

Clark was looking around, rather nervous.  "I saw a movie once- they had this thing, it looked like a little satellite dish- it was a microphone- and they used it to listen to people talking when they were far away.  Should we be talking about this out here?"

The older man scrunched his eyebrows, whispering harshly, "I don't know.  Do you see anyone?"  He looked around as well, suddenly worried.  His father wouldn't have gone that far, would he?

"I- I- don't see- uh… oh.  Just a deer."  Clark paused again, "Mom and dad are still watching TV, and I don't see anyone else…"

Lex glanced back, noticing the barn right between them and the house.  Clark could see _through_ the barn?  The very _solid_ barn?  "Ah… Clark?  What deer?"  Lex couldn't bring himself to think about it now.

"Over by the tree line- at the edge of the field."  Clark motioned off into the inky blackness.

Through buildings and in the dark.  Wonderful.  But- "That's really good eyesight you have there, Clark."  Lex let the sarcasm drip from his words.

The young man winced.  "Well… uh… opps?  Can we pretend I didn't say that?"

"Not yet.  They could be wearing camouflage.  Would you still be able to pick them out?"  Lex hissed, still worried.

"Yes."  Clark whispered back.

"Please tell me your not normally this careless."  Lex replied, voice returning to its normal volume.

"No… but we're friends, right?"  Clark said, flopping back on his back to see the stars.  "It's like you said- it's nice not having to pretend all the time, you know?"

In the dark, Lex smiled.  "I know."  He lay down as well, looking up.  "Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"Is the government going to come knocking on my door someday, wanting you back?  Did you escape from a lab somewhere?"  There was a long, uncomfortable pause.  "Never mind.  Forget I said that."  Lex felt a little hurt, not liking this secret between him and his young friend.

"I'm sorry."  Clark mumbled.  "I just…"

"Don't trust me?"  Lex replied, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"Lex… it's not really you.  Okay?  I just… I mean… don't you have any secrets you don't want anyone to know, because they'd hurt you?  Anything you don't want told?"

Lex was silent, remembering a time earlier in his life, when everything came crashing down.  And how he was still having to deal with it- that damn reporter came to mind.  "Yeah."  Lex took a deep breath.  "I'm sorry."

"It's nothing."  Clark replied.

////

Chapter 7b 

Clark trudged into the living room, stopping to watch his parents watching the news.  How could he tell them?

"Well son, how did Lex like stargazing?"

Clark shrugged, "I think if he decided to take up the hobby, he'll buy a observatory that's heated.  He went home."

Jonathan and Martha chuckled.  Clark nervously cleared his throat.  "Dad?  Mom?  Can… we talk?"  He couldn't wait- he'd loose his nerve.

"Sure son, what about?"  His dad was warm and fatherly, sipping at his coffee.  Sometimes, Clark felt like his life was a mix between a sitcom and the Twilight Zone.

"Outside?"  Clark murmured, begging with his eyes.  "I… want to show you something."

"Uh… sure son."  Jonathan got up, Martha following.

They quickly bundled up, and Clark led them outside, a ways from the barn.

"Dad… Mom… Lex told me that he got in trouble with his dad.  For coming over here."

Jonathan grunted in disgust while Martha said, "Oh my."

"And… did you tell anyone he was still coming over?"  Clark asked, worried.  He looked around again, checking the trees.

"No" Jonathan replied, and Martha said, "not since that first time- I didn't like people gossiping."

"Yeah."  Clark said, "Me too.  Haven't told anyone- but Lionel Luthor knew.  Lex says his dad might have someone following him.  Or something.  And-"

"Following him?"  Jonathan asked, obviously starting to understand his son's nervousness.  

"Yes.  Money's not a problem dad- Lionel could afford to do it.  And he doesn't like Lex.  Remember when I was driving around with him a couple of weeks ago?  His dad called- Lex put him on 'hands free' in the car, I could hear everything.  He talked to Lex like he was garbage.  No wonder Lex doesn't like him.  And… Lex told me that last week Lionel told him not to come over here anymore."

"He what?"  Jonathan asked, and Martha chimed in, "Why?"

Clark sighed, "We're not the kind of people someone of Lex's 'station' should hang out with, I guess.  At least that's what Lex said.  And…" Clark stopped, taking a deep breath.

"Why of all the stuck up, pompous-"

"Martha."  Jonathan wrapped one arm around his wife.  "I agree, but I think Clark isn't done yet. Clark?"

Clark took another deep breath.  "Lex said his father might try and have our house bugged.  He said… his dad thinks we're after his money… and… His father would do anything, to 'protect him', you know?"

"Bug our house?  You mean… like tap our phones?"  Martha was appalled.  "That's illegal!"

Both Clark and Jonathan coughed, Jonathan telling his wife, "I don't think that would stop Lionel" The sandy haired farmer looked to his son, "Clark, why did Lex tell you this?"

Clark was torn- he knew that his parents were beginning to trust the youngest Luthor- but Clark's secret was the one thing his mom and dad didn't trust anybody with.  They probably wouldn't even trust the pope, even if the man swore on a stack of Bibles.  

But he didn't want to lie.  So… "I don't really know, dad.  I think… I think Lex knows something's different about me, but I think he thinks I'm just another person affected by the meteors."  Which was probably the truth, actually.

"Clark.  Why do you think that?"  Dad looked alarmed, Martha looked frightened.

Clark thought fast, and remembered something Lex had actually done- "He said something about, well, it was a couple of weeks ago, about, you know, this whole town being full of freaks.  We were talking about Chole's wall.  And… he said something like 'you _know_ what I mean, Clark'.  I mean, I lifted him and Earl up on that catwalk at the plant, and he was pretty amazed at my strength."

"Clark… This is bad."  Jonathan said, worry creasing his brow.  "We can't let Lex even suspect that your different- I've always been worried about the government using you as an experiment, I don't want to think about LuthorCorp Labs as well."

The young man shook his head.  "I… don't think it's a problem."

"Son, LuthorCorp would see you as nothing more than a cash cow.  Something to be used, chopped up, and studied for profit."

"Dad, is that what you'd think, that Lex would use me like that?"  Clark snapped back, "Funny, his father said _we_ would use _him_."

"Clark, think about it."  Even Jonathan sounded tired of the argument, but he plowed on,  "Lex may see you as a friend, Clark, but his father won't."

Clark tried to keep his temper, "Which is why I don't have to worry, dad.  Lex would be more likely to hide information from his father than help him."  More likely?  Lex was already doing it.

Martha stepped in.  "You are both right."  She paused, watching her two favorite boys turn to look at her.  "Well, you are.  To a point- Clark, Lex can never know.  He thinks of himself as your friend, true- that is why he would never turn you over, who has been… changed by the meteors to the authorities.  But… Clark… I love you, but… well, Lex may see it as a civic duty.  People, anybody, even Lex, can act out of fear."

"He might freak if he found out… why I'm different."

"Exactly."  Martha tilted her head.  "Maybe it's a good idea, letting him believe that you're different because of the meteors.  I'm not saying to lie, Clark.  Just…"

Jonathan shook his head.  "I don't like it.  I don't want him to know- _anything_."

"Dad- "

"I know, son.  It's not really him.  It's just that it's safer this way."

"Yeah.  Okay- I won't tell him.  NOT that I was anyway."  Clark held up his hands against his parent's protests.  "But I'll be real careful.  AND," he really had to get them off the topic, "we'll not talk about it in the house, okay?  Lex sounded really worried."

"Okay, son.  It's probably a good idea anyway.  If Lex is the slightest bit suspicious, then other people could be as well."  Jonathan looked at his son, "but why did he think his father would be interested in us?"

Clark shrugged, "Lex said his father might blame us for the changes in policy Lex is doing at the plant- all the benefits and such.  He's been spending lots of time over here, and we're a 'bad influence' after all."

"If that's a bad influence-" Martha began.  

////

Author's Notes:  Hey everyone, I am so sorry that this took so long.  I'm trying to write faster, but the center part of the story is what's giving me the most trouble.  I hope to jump forward a bit, and try to get to the more action packed end soon.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 

"The fool."  Lionel whispered, hands distastefully flicking the latest report of his son's activities onto his wide mahogany desk.  He was in his office, the large room filled with the faintest strands of a violin, the two walls in front of his desk punctuated only by two doors- one to his secretary, one to his private bathroom- and a few pieces of art he had brought up from the museum.  One Monet, one Renoir, one Picasso, and one by his late wife (for appearance's sake, he never looked at it).  Just a few pieces to impress the few who where summoned to his office.

The most impressive thing however, was the two wide floor to ceiling windows behind him that gave a memorizing view of his city, Metropolis.  The view of a king- or a god- overlooking his domain from on high.  He rarely looked, studying instead the small parade of people who marched through his office every day, the pile of reports delivered to him, and the occasional news report that interested him.

He didn't like looking out.  Lionel knew why- he wasn't stupid.  He owned most of Metropolis, but not all.  Everything that crossed in front of his desk was his, but behind him, outside those glass walls?  He used to look, when he was younger.  He always found himself counting- this building he owned, this he didn't.  That city block was his, and that one, but this one wasn't.  Not owning them- it made him burn, somewhere down in his soul.  An itch he couldn't scratch.

He didn't like it.

He should own everything he saw.  It was the way the world worked, most days.  He told people what he wanted, and they jumped to fulfill his whims.  Most people, anyway.

Lionel looked at the report, twirling a custom made pen in his fingers.  'My son…' His mind whispered.  He gritted his teeth.  The boy was continuing to be a problem.  He was nothing but trouble in school, forcing Lionel to spend a lion's share just to cover up the boy's indiscretions.  And once that was over?  Drugs, women, nothing but an endless stream of bad mistakes and worse blunders.  Trying to prove that he was 'his own man'.  

Luthors were not their own men- they were owned by their money as much as they owned it.  When would Lex learn?  He had a destiny, a role to play.  Dutiful son, future heir, and one day- a Luthor would own it all.  For Lex to loose that vision for a line of white dust and pretty girls?  The fool.

Sending him to Smallville was supposed to be a stroke of genius- giving the boy a taste of his future, making him straighten up.  Lionel didn't want the hassle of marrying again, starting over.  

But he would if he had to.

He had warned the boy, even flew down one day to tell him- stop associating with the Kents.  Luthors didn't need 'friends'- especially not liberal grubby little dirt-diggers that would undoubtedly drag you down to their level.  

But had the little fool listened?  No.  And the little snot continued to make changes.  Did he think his father was blind?  That he wouldn't realize where he was getting these _useless_ ideas?  Benefits for the workers at the plant, changes in policy, and the worst- he'd have to go visit again.   His bastard son had actually attended a benefit in Gotham for runaway teens.  As if he'd be able to talk his father into letting him have any money for such a worthless cause.

Enough was enough, he'd have to pay the little boy another visit.

////

"Whoa!"  Lex screeched, hanging onto the old car hood for dear life.  Beside him, Clark laughed.  They were both sitting on the overturned hood, which was dragging through the snow.  The hood was tied by a long rope to the hitch of a truck, which was doing quick circles and sharp turns in the snowy field.  From the truck bed, Chloe and Pete were yelling encouragement.  Clark's dad was driving.

"Hey, hold on!"  Pete hollered, and Jonathan gunned the engine forward before snapping hard to the right.  The hood whipped around, sending both Lex and Clark flying off.

They landed in a tumble on the soft snow, and Lex picked himself up, giving Clark a hand up.  "Gagh! I've got snow down my shirt!"  Lex shook himself, trying to get the icy wetness out.

"Here's your hat."  Clark replied, handing the snow-soaked thing back.

Lex snagged it, shaking it out before tugging it over his head.  He mock-glared at Clark.  "Lucky-" he cut himself off, continuing, "never getting cold."

"Cold?  Want to go back?" Clark asked, concerned.

The truck pulled up, Jonathan calling out "You boys alright?"  While Pete and Chloe tumbled out, yelling "Our turn!"

Lex smiled, "After they get their last ride- or we'll never hear the end of it!"

Clark laughed, "ride in the cab, I'll stay in the bed."

Lex jogged around the front of the truck while Clark vaulted over the side.  Chloe and Pete were yelling, "Go! Go! Go!"

////

Jonathan watched Lex slide into the seat beside him, shutting the door.  "Cold?"

"And wet."  The young man replied.  He smirked.  "But if you don't get going, we both will be- I'll bet they'll come after us."  

"Sure thing," Jonathan said, remembering the snowball fight the five of them had gotten into while he had been readying the truck.  He gunned it.  "Well, what do you think of our small-town pleasures?"  He grinned at Lex.  

An easy chuckle escaped the young Luthor.  "This is fun."  He pointed back at the cab.  "But I think Clark would have liked it better if Lana didn't have homework."  Lex tuned back around, adjusting the vents to hit him with the hot air.

Jonathan sighed, letting the truck twist around.  "I know.  He's always pining for her.  I don't mind it really, Lex, but please don't encourage him so much.  He's just getting his heart broke."

The truck snapped to the side, Lex holding on, "Humm… I understand.  I don't really encourage him too much, you know.  I just try to get him to do something about it- so he'll know one way or another."

"Yeah."  Jonathan paused, "How's the plant?"  The truck lurched, and then took a long straight shot, gaining speed.

"Oh, pretty good, actually.  Production has reached a plateau, but costs are continuing to go down, so profits are up.  The increased benefits are reducing turn-over, which is lowering our training budget.  Ahh…." The truck plowed hard to the right, Lex scrambling for a handhold before continuing, "Some streamlining of the administration, and I'm going to be able to phase out two positions as the men retire in the next year."

"Sounds great."  Jonathan paused, and then delicately added, "Your father must be pleased."  The older man continued to skillfully whip the kids around behind the truck.

Lex groaned, face grimacing.  "You'd think.  But Plant Three is one of five- and the other plants have gotten word of my changes.  Lionel has the other plant managers trained, and they don't want to alter anything.    But the workers do- and there has been talk of strikes.  And that's all _my_ fault."

The farmer sighed, jerking the truck hard to the side again, while he gunned it.  He smiled as Pete and Chloe went flying.  "I can't help you there- it's a harsh thing for me to say, especially in front of a man's son, but I've never known your father to care for others.  Your only defense would be your bottom line.  I doubt he'd notice anything else."  Jonathan slowed the truck down, turning to go back and get the two teens.

"You don't need to tell me that."  Lex groaned.

////

"Well boys, Chloe, how was it?"  Martha called from the kitchen as the group wearily tromped inside.

"Great!"  Clark enthused.

"Lots of fun, Mrs. Kent," Chloe added, "but now I'm freezing."

"Well, I've just did laundry- you can all change into a warm, dry sweatshirt." Martha plopped down a pile of the folded clothes, "And I've heated up the water for coco.  Make yourselves at home."

Lex quickly found himself in a borrowed shirt, sipping coco and talking with Clark and his friends.  He was still amazed at how easily these three got along, how accepting they were of each other.  He smiled to himself, watching Chloe and Pete tease each other.  He felt almost welcome, even Chloe had stopped glaring at him every time she thought he wasn't looking.

He must have jinxed himself, his cell phone rang.

A deep sigh, and he pulled it out.  "Damn."  He growled.  "Can you two be quiet for a minute?  Thanks."  He turned the phone on.  "Lex Luthor."  A pause.  "I understand, thanks.  I'll be back soon."  He hung up, wearily looking at the phone.

"Lex?"

He gave Clark an apologetic smile.  "It was my staff.  My father's people called, he's planning on dropping by tomorrow."  Lex dragged himself to his feet.  "I need to go back."

"Are you sure Lex?"  Clark asked, Pete and Chloe just watching, interested.

"Yes.  The staff will inform him if I don't act concerned.  Whatever he's upset about this time- he'll only react worse if I don't at least pretend I care.  I'll see you guys later."  Lex turned, trudging out of the room.

////

Author's Notes:  The activity Lex was involved in is called 'hooding', and my husband told me about how he and his cousins used to do it in the fields of Kansas when it snowed.  It's a lot like tubing behind a boat in a lake- the vehicle tugs you around, trying to get a good whip action going.  (I also got to hear the beautiful story of one of his cousins getting thrown into a barbed wire fence, too)


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 

The two Luthors sat down; the smallish table the only distance separating them.  Between them, the fine Waterford crystal glistened, the china shown.  The deep mahogany of the table glowed warmly.  The room itself was one of the smaller dinning rooms of the mansion, only four servants comfortably fit into the room.  Matching mahogany floors, walls, and ceiling graced the room with deep carvings in the baseboards and moldings.  A fire blazed cheerfully in the fireplace, light reflected off the crystal chandelier, an antique mirror hung against one wall, and wide windows along one wall opened up the space.

Lionel glared at his son.  He had shown up around eleven- he had left in the morning to run this little errand, hoping to return to Metropolis in time for an evening's activities with his new girlfriend, Ms. Wellspring.  Lex had graciously welcomed him into his home, inviting him in for a meal.  The boy hadn't been as sarcastic and bitter as he normally was, and Lionel was busy trying to figure out what angle Lex was trying now.

"The cook's been trying out these wonderful little truffle appetizers, I hope you enjoy them."  Lex said as one of the servants came forth to poor the first wine of the meal.  Lionel grunted.  His son continued, "the cook was ecstatic you were coming out to visit.  I pretty much gave him free reign- he's been quite creative of late."

"I suppose you enjoy the creativity of those under your command."  Lionel's words dripped with meaning.

Lex gave a little smile that wasn't- quite- a sneer.  "When I so obviously reap the benefits of such activities."

"Is that what you think will happen- that they will always work in your best interest?"

Lex gave his father a big smile, pausing as a small plate with artfully decorated food was placed in front of him.  "Mostly, yes.  And they work so hard for it, too."  Lex gave a little laugh.  "Like that benefit in Gotham- I certainly didn't raise a penny for that charity, but LuthorCorp got some of the credit."

"Do tell."  Lionel's words were ice- let his son bury himself.  Curious, he picked at his plate, surprised at how the truffle mousse melted away in his mouth.  He had sent his less talented chef to the Luthor family home- and this was quite good.

Lex shrugged, "one of our employees at the plant had his daughter run away.  She turned up at the shelter, finally calling home after two weeks.  The man was grateful for the shelter's volunteers who counseled her into going home.  He asked if he could 'pass the hat' at the plant."  Lex plopped a bite into his mouth, continued talking,  "I gave my blessing, and he put up posters and arranged everything.  I had to go to Gotham anyway- those delivery problems I was having from my suppliers I told you about- and brought the man along for the ride.  As a 'donation organizer', he got into the benefit for free, and I paid the minimal entry fee for myself- it was very good PR for less than two hundred.  No cost to LutherCorp of course, but a nice article for the papers."

"The press will expect more and more from you."  Lionel ground out.  Furious at Lex, furious at his informers.  They had left out the vital information about the employee attending the event.  "Charities are nothing more than black holes that suck in an endless stream of monies that could be used better elsewhere.  They waste time and energies and never solve any of the problems they propose to fix."

The servant swooped in, removing plates and replacing them with the soup course.  His son sighed, obviously torn about something.  He tilted his head, and then noticeably plunged forward.  "Father… there aren't many activities a woman of social standing can participate in- but attending charity functions is one of them.  And eventually…"

Lionel was frozen, but only for a moment.  "You mean to tell me, you were _wife hunting_???"  The billionaire stuttered to a stop, then laughed.  It was too ridiculous.  That was his excuse?  If he was going to lie to him, little Alexander should have at least tried something _feasible_-

His bald little boy ignored him.  "No.  Not yet, anyway.  That's years away."  He took a swallow of wine.  "But I was curious… to see what type of women there were at those functions.  I was disappointed, if it makes you feel any better."

Lionel chuckled again, stirring his perfectly clear consommé, before taking a sip.  "Gold-diggers and worse?"  The little brat nodded.  "I told you that."  He hardened his voice, "Just like I told you to stay away from the Kents."

"I know."  Lex sighed.  "I thought about it, as well.  But…"

"But what?"  Lionel snarled, "What part of 'no' don't you get?"

Lex sighed.  "The Kents are organic farmers, you know."  He looked meaningfully at his father, spooning himself a taste of his own bowl.  

"I know.  Why you insisted on their produce is indecipherable."

"The cook asked."  Lex continued, obviously forcing himself to remain civil after being interrupted, "And Martha Kent is a well-known for organizing charity events.  And their son's best friend is a rather troublesome reporter."

"All the more reason to avoid them."  Lionel was speaking to a small, stupid child.

His son was noticeably ignoring his tone, his long pale fingers tight around their wine glass.  "But amazingly, they've dropped all inclination to start any sort of organization against having a chemical plant- by a company with a known shady track record with the EPA- practically in their backyard."

"Do you honestly believe that their reluctance to organize against LutherCorp has anything to do with your continued association with them?"  Scorn dripped from Lionel's lips.

"It has more to do with me than anything you have done."  Lex dryly replied, watching him with half lidded eyes.  Lionel glared daggers at him.  Lex smirked, his mouth turning up in that annoying little twist.  "And besides, if the Kents ever do ask me for help, then I'll know when they are in deep enough to buy the farm.  I'll own them."  Amused eyes danced over the room, his little brat continued, "Which is also something you've never been able to do."

"Don't mock me, child."  Lionel growled.  He glared at his boy, the young man meeting his eyes, refusing to back down.  The servants slipped in, taking the soup and leaving the main course.  They poured new wine, a deep red to go with the roast lamb now on the table.  The staring contest wore on, the tension refusing to break.

He boy brushed his hand over his smooth head before he began to speak.  "Mock you?  That isn't mocking you, father."  Lex leaned forward, holding onto his temper with iron fingers, "but if that's the way you want it?  Fine, I'll do what you want.  Eat your dinner.  Yell at me.  Tell me how horrible of a son I've become, now that I'm not snorting cocaine and whoring around.  That I've started running this lousy crap factory you've given me- and I'm managing to run a profit.  Let's just ignore all that, and settle for what we've always been- two people who hate each other, but are forced to work with each other on occasion."

Lionel gritted his teeth, setting his crystal glass down with a smack.  He wasn't about to let this annoying little punk control the conversation. "Don't pretend that that our relationship is my fault. It is yours.  You embarrass me, again and again, and then you claim it is my fault when I won't respect you?  When have you done anything that I could respect you for?  You think your measly little profit margin would impress me?  You should be pulling five times the money out of that plant."

"Father," Lex ground out, "My profits far exceed expectations and projections for this plant- and once some of the minor improvements are paid off, this plant will have a higher profit ratio than any of the others in the United States.  I'd have to use illegal slave laborers from Central America to create the numbers you are expecting."

Lionel just stared at his son.  "That's your call."  These silly morals- where did the boy get them?

Lex lifted an eyebrow, his sneer was at full force now.  "My call?  My, my, my- you mean I'd get to make my own decision?  I'm touched.  Perhaps I should write down the date."

The older man growled, snarling, "Don't get smart with me, boy.  You should remember your position in this family."

His son growled back.  "When will _you_ remember?  I'm your heir, father- not one of your little yes-man minions.  When do you plan on remembering that you need me to have a my own thoughts and ideas if you want the precious Luthor Empire to last a year after your death?"

"When you start realizing that the Luthor Empire was built on principals you refuse to learn!"  Lionel snarled, standing up.  "I am sick of your games, and I am sick of your evasions.  You will learn the proper priorities, you will learn the proper attitude, and you will start associating with the appropriate people!"  He stepped back, letting the chair scrape against the floor.  "Or-" He stopped himself, wary of giving away any information.  Little Lex didn't need to know how expendable he was.

"Or?"  The little boy hissed.

Lionel's eyes narrowed.  "Or."  And he turned and left, not looking back.  Only barely noticing that Lex never rose from his chair.

///

Clark was in the barn working on the tractor with his dad when he heard the unmistakable growl of Lex's car.  It seemed to lurch to a stop, long silence before he heard the door slam, hard.

"We're in here!"  Clark yelled.  They were up to their elbows in grease, but Clark didn't think Lex would mind, as long as they didn't try and touch him.

Lex strode in, hands in his pockets of his overcoat, eyes barely flicking around.  "What's up Clark, Jonathan?"

"Tractor's broke."  Jonathan replied.  "Alternator.  Need to fix it by next week so we can till the fields."

"Oh."  Lex obviously didn't really care.

"Uh, Lex.  How did your meeting with your father go?"  Clark asked.

"Good."  Lex said, starting to pace.  "I managed to go almost an entire half hour before we started yelling at each other.  And he stormed out on me, not the other way around.  So I won."  Lex didn't seem to notice the uneasy silence of his two listeners.  "And I think I confused him for at least fifteen minutes, which has never happened before.  Again… more points in my favor."

Jonathan stood back from the tractor, leaning against an old barrel.  "You're not acting like it went well."

"Yeah," Clark added, "where's the champagne?"

Lex grunted, still pacing.  He looked almost frantic, suddenly settling himself down on a wooden bench.  He didn't look at the two men.  "I know… I know that… you… don't like my father, Jonathan.  But…  well.  I… tried… to… make it better.  A little.  Not-" Lex held up a hand, "not try and fix everything, or anything that drastic.  Just… pretend that everything was normal.  That we don't fight all the time."  Lex nodded his head, looking down.  "Ordered the cook to fix his best meal, picked the smaller dinning room to 'foster a sense of intimacy'.  Tried to steer the conversation into a more civil tone."  Lex fell quiet.

After awhile, Clark whispered.  "Didn't work?"

"No."  Lex said.  He looked up, voice quiet, and almost emotionless.  "It's their anniversary, you know.  Mom and Dad's.  I don't think he remembered, not really.  I had them use Mom's china- we used to, to eat off of it on birthdays and special occasions.  Mother told me she registered for it for the wedding, and liked it because it 'wasn't a hundred years old'.  She was funny that way, she liked new things."  He fell silent again.

"I…" Jonathan broke off.  "I'm sorry."

"Why?  You didn't do anything wrong."  Lex dryly replied.  He sighed.  "But that's not why I came.  I don't care what he thinks, but… my father warned me again not to associate with you.  He… kept to his usual tactics, vague threats and insinuations.  But… my father's dangerous, Mr. Kent.  I know him well enough to keep myself out of too much trouble.  And he's likely to leave me alone- he may hate me, but he only has one son.  But… I… thought you should know."

Jonathan stood up straighter, took a deep breath.  "I understand."  Clark was just watching.

The young man rubbed a hand over his smooth scalp.  "I… would appreciate it if you think about it, Jonathan.  My father…  I don't want you getting hurt."

The older man nodded, taking a rag to wipe the grease from his hands.  "I know what he's capable of, Lex.  But thank you for warning us."  He gave Lex a tight-lipped smile.  "And I'll think about it."

Clark smiled in happy innocence.  "Yeah, well.  I wouldn't worry.  I'll get cleaned up, we can go to the Beanery or something."

Jonathan sighed.  "Clark.  I'm sorry, but not tonight.  I'm going to have to talk to your mother about this."

"Dad."  Clark said, it came out as a whine.  "What are you saying?  You can't be serious- I can't hang out with Lex because Lionel's making threats?"

Lex stood up.  "Yes Clark.  Listen to your father, okay?  I've… I've got to go."  He started walking out.

"Dad?"  Clark twisted around.

"Clark… I've seen Lionel in action before.  It… wasn't pretty.  People… died Clark.  Accidents happen, but it was just too convenient.  So… let me speak with your mother, okay?"

"Okay.  Lex?"

Alexander Luthor stopped at the door to the barn.  "Yes Clark?"

"You're a good friend, Lex."

"Thank you Clark."

////

Author's Notes:  I know it seems strange that Lex would try to pacify his father- but one of the reasons he's such an angry man is because Lionel doesn't accept him and he wants that acceptance.  And the new, kinder Lex might want to extend an olive branch.  Of course, it doesn't _work_, but hey- we _knew_ that was going to happen.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 

"Jonathan, honey, I just don't know."  Martha was pulling down the bedsheets, climbing in as her husband turned off the bedside lamp.  He followed her into the bed, the two of them pulling up the quilt to their chins as they prepared for sleep. 

"Baby, I just don't know what to do either.  Lex was worried, and that worries me."  Jonathan rolled onto his side, wrapping one strong arm around his wife.  "I worry about you and Clark.  You're my responsibility, to keep you safe.  I can't do that if Lionel starts with his tricks."

"But what about Lex?  He's turning into such a nice man- I'd hate to abandon him to his father."

Jonathan groaned.  "I know.  I know.  I just don't…" He sighed loudly, "know what else to do but to stop having him over for dinner.  Lionel can play unbelievably dirty- and I don't want to loose you.  Or Clark."

"Oh baby," Martha rolled to face Jonathan, giving him a quick kiss.  "I doubt Lionel would go that far.  It's just dinner."  She smiled in the darkness, "besides, how can I finish my nefarious plan if Lex stops coming over?"

Jonathan laughed.  "Oh yes, your plan.  I almost forgot."  He held Martha closer.  "He's surprised me, you know.  He's turning out to be a decent man."

"I know."  Martha replied.

"Even if he practically comes from a different planet- I still can't get over how his lousy excuse for a father never taught him football as a boy.  Or even hired someone to do it.  That's just ridiculous."

Martha chuckled in the darkness.  "Not everyone values sports so highly, Jon-baby."

"Yeah, well, the world would be a better place."  Came the grumbled reply.

There was silence, and then.  "Jonathan?  We can't give up on him."

A sigh.  "I know."  A pause, "You never could abandon the helpless."

"That's why you love me."

"One reason."

A longer pause while they shared a kiss, "Dinner?  This Sunday, like always?"  Martha sounded hopeful.

"Ahh… yes.  _But_- only because I believe Lionel would say something to us before he did anything.  And if he does- family first, Martha.  And don't argue with me."

"Yes Jonathan."

////

"I feel like a spy or something," Clark whispered, lightly walking along the dry creek bed, "all these secret engagements and stuff."  Overhead, the setting moon barely bathed them in its feeble light.

"Don't be silly."  Lex said behind him, "I prefer to think of them as clandestine business meetings.  Speaking of which- that funny bit of circuitry you saw in my phone?"  He had shown Clark his cell phone the last time they had gotten together in the middle of the night, and Clark had 'seen' something suspicious in it.  Lex still had to figure out how the young man was seeing through walls.  But figuring out how could wait- at least he was profiting from Clark's special abilities.  He hiked up his largely oversized blue jeans.

"Yeah?"

"Tracker.  Dear old dad likes to keep a handle on me- see where I'm going.  Ran my clothes through an X-ray machine, found two more- in my shoes and in my coat.  Figure the car is bugged.  Now I only have to worry about micro-circuitry."

"So that's why you're wearing my spare clothes?"  Clark turned, grinning at Lex.

"Yes.  And next time- bring some underwear."  Lex snarled to Clark's chuckle.  "Did you look at your house?"

"Yeah, a little.  The nails get in the way, and the stuff is so small.  But I think I found something in the living room.  No cameras though- I checked them against the pictures you gave me."

"Don't touch them, try to pretend they aren't there."  Lex warned.

"I know, I know.  I still can't believe that your father would care so much about you hanging out with us."

Lex sighed.  "You're my friend, Clark.  And Luthor's don't have friends- we aren't supposed to associate with the mere mortals below us.  Average people and us don't mix."

Clark turned around, stopping.  In the dim light, Lex nearly ran into him before he stopped walking forward as well.  "Lex-" Clark whispered, sounding hurt, "is that the only reason you hang out with me- the only reason you can bear to get down from your pedestal and-"

"No."  Lex replied, "That's not it at all.  I will admit that you intrigue me, but… You're father's perfectly normal, and I do miss talking to him.  Any ideas on when they'll relent and let me come over again?"

"Soon.  Mom misses your company, and so does dad- even if he won't admit it."  Clark was smiling in the dim light.

Lex sighed.  "I… want to come over, Clark.  But I'm worried.  Especially since we _know_ that my father will _know_ that I came over."

"Don't worry about it.  Your father would probably try something against me first- at least then we'll have warning."

The pale bald man shook his head, "I don't want it to get that far- I won't be able to protect your family then."  

"I can make whatever accident he has planned look like it failed.  Don't worry about me."

"Just don't get caught coming out here- I don't need dear Lionel to find out you're sneaking out the same time I am."  Lex glanced at his watch.  "I need to get back, and so do you.  Tuesday night then?"

"Yeah."

////

The day was blindingly bright, not a cloud in the early spring air.  The wind still smelled of frost- it was too early to plant, and Clark and Jonathan where sitting on the fence rail overlooking their field.  Behind them, Lex was walking out of the house.

"Martha sent me out bearing gifts," Lex said as soon as he got close enough not to yell.  He walked up, handing a pop to Clark and a beer to Jonathan.  Quick movements, and Lex was seated between them, taking long swallow from his own beer.

"And she said that dinner would be ready in twenty minutes."  Lex added.  Then he looked over the field.  "I've always heard that there was nothing to do in Smallville except watch the corn grow.  Nice to know my reports were right."

Clark sheepishly smiled, "we were talking about when to plant."

"Ah."  Lex nodded his head.  He smiled to himself.  "Important, I'm sure." He paused, "Mr. Kent… I wanted to thank you for inviting me to come over for dinner tonight."

"Not a problem, Lex."  Jonathan good-naturedly replied.  There was no reason to mention Lionel Luthor's threats, or the weeks it had been since his last visit.

Lex looked over the fields, taking a deep breath.  Ever since Jonathan's comments, he had a little whisper of curiosity tickling the back of his head, and he couldn't scratch it.  "But… I was wondering.  I know it isn't really my business, but what did my father do that… colored your opinion of him?  I couldn't find any record of your family having a business deal with him."

Jonathan looked over the fields, running a hand through his wavy blond hair.  "If you need to ask, then he obviously never told you.  Not that I'm surprised.  Are you sure you want to know?"

"I asked, didn't I?"

"Yes.  Clark- I don't want you to pass this around the school, you've got that?"  Jonathan could really use that 'fatherly' tone of voice when he needed to.

"Dad!  I wouldn't!"  

"Of course.  Well, Lex, it was about twenty-five no, thirty years ago.  The Luthor's had just bought a large tract of land outside of Smallville, and the whole town was stirred up about it.  Your grandfather came into town, bringing your father with him.  Looking over the land- there was talk of a factory with hundreds of new jobs.  Naturally, everyone was pretty excited about that.  And your father was a charmer- still is, in a lot of ways.  He was young, handsome, single, and richer than the whole town put together.  He even had a degree from some fancy college out east."

"I had a cousin- I was a freshman in high school that year- she was a senior, cheerleader, long curly blond hair.  Name was Danielle Jackson, her mother was my dad's sister.  She was the prettiest thing to come out of our county.  And she caught your father's eye."  Jonathan took a long drink of his beer.

"It didn't take long- her steady boyfriend suddenly had better things to do than to go out with her, and she found herself properly swept off her feet.  Most of the kids thought they'd get married, but her parents knew better.  They worried; asked her to stop seeing him- tried all they could do, shy of warning him off their land with a gun.  Didn't work."

Jonathan fell silent, and Lex asked, "And then?"

Jonathan shrugged.  "She got pregnant.  No one doubted who the father was- but your dad wouldn't own up to it.  Went back to Metropolis the day she told him.  Never called on her again."  He sighed, "then it went downhill.  This was before Roe vs Wade- and she was afraid, and so she got an illegal abortion.  Don't know who gave her the contact, but she died from it.  Abortions were usually preformed by the worst doctors- ones who had most likely lost their licenses for one reason or another.  A lot of girls died from them that you never really heard about."

"But her father knew who to blame.  He had to bury his daughter, because Lionel Luthor wouldn't be a man.  And so, he made his biggest mistake- he crossed the Luthors.  He publicly decried them ever coming to Smallville.  He was drunk at the time, and at a bar.  But he spilled the whole story over his beer.  Everyone knew that Lionel and Danielle were an item, and that they 'broke up', but no one knew the whole story till then.  Just rumors."

Jonathan tersely continued, "He died a week later- farm accident involving his thresher.  Ripped his arm off, bled to death."  

Lex sipped his drink.  "Damn convenient."

"I know."  Jonathan growled.

"Oh."  Clark said, "That's why you were so upset that Lionel Luthor managed to buy the Jackson farm."  To Lex's questioning gaze, Clark added, "About five years ago, I think.  I was in fifth grade…"

Jonathan nodded, "She had three older brothers- they kept the farm going, but they finally went under.  Your father bought the land off the auction block when they foreclosed.  It's a good thing he only sent a representative, old Mrs. Jackson would have probably shot him."

Lex snorted.  "That would have been a loss."

"Lex!"  Clark gasped, playfully swatting at him.

Behind them, Martha called from her open backdoor, "Boys!  Dinner!"

////

Ms. Wellspring sat on her toilet, one perfectly manicured hand clutching the white plastic stick while the other daubed at the mascara running down her face.

"Hold yourself together, girl.  This isn't the end of the world."  She gulped in big gasps of air.  "Just pull yourself together, and lets get ready for tonight."  She lifted her head; pushing back her dark curls from her face.  Determinably, she flung the stick in the trash, pulling a towel from the rack.

"He never keeps a girlfriend for more than two months- and you're only a single week late.  This relationship is more than half over anyway, so have fun while you can."  Jessica Wellspring lectured herself as she leaned into the mirror, checking her hair.  "Damn- time to get my roots redone.  He hates redheads."  Jessica mentally made a mental note to get her hair appointment at her favorite salon.  All of it- Lionel would throw her out on the street if he knew her real hair color.  And that wasn't part of the plan.

Jessica prided herself at not being a fool.  She had entered into this relationship with Lionel Luthor knowing that the whole deal was on a very short fuse.  Her only two goals where to wrangle as many pretty rocks out of the older man as she could, and to set herself up in higher society for her next relationship.  She had her eye on two vice presidents of LuthorCorp- both were a bit younger, and both really needed a mistress.  And everyone knew that Lionel didn't mind his leftovers going to his underlings.  In fact he seemed to get a kick out of it.

After all, Jessica mussed as she entered the steaming shower.  He need never know- any of it.  Not her hair color, or that she never intended on keeping him- (unlike her grasping predecessors), nor her current 'condition'.  That last would be easily fixed, as soon as he moved on.

////

Author's Notes:  They call it pop in Kansas, so I called it pop here.  So sue me.  


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11 

The full moon shown overhead as Lex ducked between the branches of the windbreak between the two fields.  He held back a yawn- these midnight meetings were taking their toll, but he didn't see any reason to stop- even if the Kents had welcomed him back into their home.  

Clark was more open out here, they didn't have to worry about bugs or cameras, and Lex didn't have to worry about Jonathan or Martha figuring out that he knew far more than he ever let on about their son.  He didn't think they'd be happy, and he didn't really blame them.  They obviously loved their boy- and he was different enough that _someone_ would want to cart him off for 'further study' if his abilities ever became public knowledge.  

Things like that were secrets that you didn't tell casual acquaintances.  Or even good friends- or even best friends- at least, not if you could help it.

Lex had been surprised at himself yesterday, when he realized he understood Clark's reluctance to share, and found out that he didn't really care to know.  Oh, he still wanted to find out- but the burning need was gone.  He'd find out in good time, and that was good enough.

"Lex."  Clark whispered.  He was hidden behind some trees.

"Clark."

"You've got a tail tonight."

"Shit."  Lex turned around, seeing nothing in the moonlight.

"He's behind your car, sneaking around.  He's going to find your clothes."

"Damn, damn, damn!"  Lex fumed that he had to change clothes to leave any new tracking devices behind.  His father's labs had gotten quite creative in miniaturizing circuits lately, and Lex couldn't let his father find out what he was doing.  

"He left his car behind- it's just down the road."

Lex grinned, letting his old sneer shape his face.  "Think we should do something to it?"

"Dunno.  I'll go check."

Lex glanced at Clark, but he was already gone.  Lex Luthor sighed.  It was still hard to get used to Clark's speed sometimes.  He stepped behind a tree to wait.  It was almost creepy in the darkness, and time seemed to stand still.  Why was he so nervous about this?  Lex checked his watch- Clark had only been gone twenty seconds or so.

Suddenly, there was a loud roar of an engine- a mid-sized sedan, by the sound of it- the car peeled around the corner where Lex had hid his car, the horn blaring 'beep!  Beeeepp!'  The car took off down the road, tires squealing.

Lex blinked, even as he heard a loud "SON OF A BITCH!"  And the faint sounds of running feet. 

Clark had stolen his tail's car?!?  Lex grinned in the moonlight, one hand over his mouth, holding in the laughter.  A faith woosh, and Clark was standing beside him.

The young man gave him a very earnest look.  "You should never leave your keys in the ignition."

"Ah… no, you shouldn't." Lex smothered another laugh. "But, he'll be back soon."

"Maybe.  I left it right up by the next stand of trees- he'll be able to see it, and he'll probably go after it."  Clark started walking towards Lex's car, Lex following.

"Not if he's smart."  Lex argued.

Clark shrugged.  "It's in the middle of the road.  Right behind a bend.  It might get hit by the next car through if he doesn't get it."

Lex sighed.  "We'll relocate.  Damn!"  To Clark's wondering look, he added, "he'll be able to figure out that I'm not alone out here, Clark."

"There's a row of trees all along the road here- maybe he'll think you snuck back."

"Maybe.  You wear gloves?"

"Yeah."  He had talked with Clark about leaving traces, and fingerprints had been one such conversation.  Lex was glad Clark had taken precautions.

"What kind of car was it?"

"You couldn't tell by the sound?"  Clark was grinning.

"A cheap one."  Lex playfully growled.

Clark turned and gave him a fake leather-bound thick folder.  He gazed into the distance, saying, "Guy's still walking towards his vehicle.  He's looking around a lot."

Lex picked up the book, realizing it was the owner's manual from the car.  He flipped it open, frowning at the name.  One of the house staff, of course.  "Tell me when he's almost there- then I'll run for the car.  Fourth location?"

"Sounds good.  I wanted to talk to you about security stuff- I've found a few more bugs at the house.  And I told my parents about them."

"Clark-"

"I had to, they would get sloppy if I didn't.  And he's almost there, so you better go.  See you soon."

////

Lex stood in his office, back to the room, watching the landscapers work on his garden in the bright sunlight.  He frowned, eyes catching the one he wanted.  He turned around, rolling open the bottom drawer on his desk and removed the owner's manual from last night.

Quick steps and he had walked down the long corridors, waving off his butler.  He soon found himself in the backyard standing in front of the man who had tailed him last night.  He was unimpressive- graying brown hair, middle-aged, slightly fat.  Lex dropped the manual in front of the man, straight in the pile of aged manure he was working into the garden.

"I know that you don't work for anyone else but my father- at least, you better not.  It's a fast way to get killed around here, Lionel Luthor will see to that."

Lex turned and walked away.  Threats were pointless, innuendos meaningless, and out-and-out propositions dangerous.  He could only hope that the spy his father had hired would figure out that it was in his best interest to pretend that he had never gotten 'caught' and not to try so hard to follow Lex next time.  Because if Lex fired him or told his father that he had found him out?  The man would be without a job- and most likely find it very hard to find a new one.

////

Her hair was perfect- Jessica Wellspring gave it another flick of her fingers to tuck the last errant wisp into place.  She admired herself in the mirror, long nails caressing the stunning diamond necklace Lionel had given her earlier this week.  It was a pretty piece- all white and glittering with splashes of red rubies.  She had even managed to find matching nail polish.

She snapped open her tiny purse, fishing out her lipstick.  Behind her, another woman entered the plush women's room of Metropolis's most historical posh restaurant.

"Honey, it ain't gonna work.  He'll be tired of you in a week."

Jessica turned, eyes stormy.  The other woman continued, "I know from experience."

Jessica smiled, a little warily.  The other woman was older, easily in her thirties.  She had reddish-brown hair and a wedding ring- not likely to be competition.  She was probably an old conquest, just trying to warn the 'young innocent thing' from heartbreak.  "I know."  Jessica said, "And I appreciate your concern, but I'll be alright." 

"I hope so, girly."  The other woman shook her head, "he doesn't let anyone sink their hooks in."

Jessica shrugged; dismissing the tiny thought that entered her head- this stranger wouldn't know what was going on in her life.  She certainly hadn't told anyone, so no one knew.  "I know.  That's what I like about him."  Jessica gave the woman a big smile.  "At least it will be fun while it lasts."

The lady chuckled, walking back to the stalls.  "Just keep that attitude… and you won't get your heart broke."

Ms. Wellspring left the bathroom, letting her face settle into its smiling mask.  It was true, she had thought about keeping the baby and forcing Lionel to pay support- but besides ruining her figure, Lionel would be likely to either get out of paying, or take the baby away.  And she'd be left with nothing.

No, her first plan was best.  Ride this till it was over- and then quietly sweep the consequences under the rug.  She'd need some down time between Lionel and her next conquest anyway.

////

Clark carefully looked over the barn, eyes scanning the beams and joints with his X-ray vision and super-sight.  Nothing in here- but he had found an array of tiny microphones and even a small camera in the house.  The camera was pointed at the dinning room table, the microphones littering the living room, dinning room, kitchen, and downstairs bathroom.  He hadn't found anything upstairs.

They had all shown up when he and his folks had spent the day shopping last week.  Lex hadn't known they were going, but whoever planted the first mike would know.  

It had to be Lionel Luthor because Clark had been able, however unwillingly, to overhear another conversation between Lionel and his 'rebellious' son.  Lex had driven him around for some errands again when he had received another call.  Lionel had demanded that Lex not use the speakerphone, and then proceeded to use some of the worst language Clark had ever heard.  He was blushing by the end of it, and Lex was red in the face as well.

Clark couldn't tell if it was anger or shame that made the young Luthor so upset, but he had offered to drive Lex home.  Clark would have been afraid for his life if he had been human; Lex's hands were shaking so badly that the car was almost wobbling down the road.

So Clark drove, and Lex insisted that he take the car out for a proper spin.  "Clark, don't tell me you're afraid of a little speed."  They had gotten on the back roads, Lex coaching, "Just be sure to look ahead- further than you normally have to.  The car takes the same amount of time to react to changes, but when you're going fast- that little bit of time takes up a lot of distance."  And turning, "start on the outside of a turn, cut to the inside by the middle, and then end up on the outside.  It's the turn race-car drivers use, and corners aren't so sharp that way."

"Where did you learn all this stuff?"  Clark had asked, laughing, and Lex had replied, "Took lessons from some professional race-car driver down in North Carolina."

Lex had calmed down after awhile, and they had taken the few items they had promised to pick up back to Clark's mother.

The farm boy sighed.  Nothing in the barn… But how long would that remain true?  As soon as Lionel learned that Lex sometimes talked with Clark in the loft, Clark would loose everyplace he could possibly call 'safe'.

His dad came in, looking at Clark.  "The seed just arrived.  You gonna help me load it up?"

"Sure."  Clark turned around, kicking at the dirt.  They made quick work of it, Jonathan pulling the tractor around and Clark easily lifting the huge bags of organic seed into the hopper.  They finished with the setting sun.

As soon as they finished, Jonathan sighed, pointedly looking over his shoulder.  "Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"Find any more?"

"No- they're all in the house.  Downstairs.  With a camera on the dinning room table."  Clark spat out, feeling angry.

Jonathan growled.  "To watch Lex.  I can't believe it.  No- I take that back- I can believe it.  I just… this is beyond… anything… and…"  Jonathan drifted off.  When he continued, he was very quiet. "I'm afraid Clark- what if he finds out about you?  Lionel Luthor will find a way to dice you into little pieces, and I won't be able to stop him."

"Dad, it will be alright."

Jonathan let out a long breath.  "I can only pray." 

They stood there for awhile, looking out over the field.  Jonathan patted the tractor.  "Plant tomorrow.  I'd like to get an early start- weatherman says it'll rain tomorrow night, and that would be good for the seed."

"All right."  Clark was about to turn back to the house, but his dad stopped him with one arm.

"And Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"How much does Lex know?"

Clark froze, torn.  He could tell his dad everything, at least he could before.  Why did he feel so much like lying now?  "Uh… I don't know."  It was the truth.

"Son, how much do you sleep in your own bed at night?"

"Uhh…." Dad was using that tone of voice that meant he knew the answer to the question.  "Most of the time, when I'm not in the barn?"  Clark knew he sounded sheepish- but what did dad want him to say?

"Which means you're home only five days a week.  Clark- I know that you're not running out to go drinking or anything like that.  And that only leaves Lex.  And I can't approve of that- if nothing else, what kind of a man asks his friends to hide their time together so much?  Why can't you meet him at the Beanery or something?"

"The kind of man whose father had bugged his car, bugged his clothes, bugged his phone, and set people to follow him every time he leaves the house."  Clark muttered.  "Dad, he really needs a friend, someone he can trust.  And he trusts me.  And… it isn't so bad, is it?"

"Clark, you have too much to loose."

"Not from Lex."  Clark was very sure about that.

"No."  Jonathan slowly said, "I don't believe you have to worry about Lex.  But if his father starts nosing around here anymore- we've got things we _don't_ want him to find."  Jonathan nodded to himself, Clark could easily figure out what in particular he was talking about.

"Dad… do you want me to hide _it_ somewhere?  I could… I dunno, dig a hole and bury it.  Tonight- out in the field.  Planting tomorrow will cover our tracks."

Jonathan sighed.  "Not really- we've got shale and limestone less than ten feet down around here, the aquifers only at fifteen feet- you know that.    You'd have to dig through rock, and you'd hit water.  I would have buried it years ago if I thought that was a solution.  But the dirt changes color at five feet, Clark.  It would be far too noticeable, digging all that up.  And even then- underground, it would be practically sitting in water.  I don't know what that would do, outer space is a different environment, and I don't want to damage it." 

Clark frowned.  "So what if it rusts?  It's not like it's going anywhere else anyway."

"Sorry son, it isn't that simple.  I don't know much physics, but we don't know what it uses for fuel.  I'd rather not release _that_ into the atmosphere."  Jonathan reached a hand out, ruffling his son's hair.  "But, you've changed the topic- what do you think your new best friend knows?"

Clark just sighed.  "I don't really know, dad.  I think he thinks I'm a meteorite mutant.  He's suspicious that I'm… ah… faster than normal, and he knows I'm stronger- I pulled him and Earl up one handed, you know.  But he isn't doing anything, he isn't trying to get tissue samples, or run tests, or… anything.  I… trust him dad.  I really do."

"We don't really have a choice, do we son?"  Jonathan replied.  "Not if we want to be his friend, we're going to have to trust him.  Just a little- mind.  I don't want you telling him anything.  Okay?"

"Okay."  Clark was happy to agree, he didn't like talking about this with his dad.  Jonathan could be so paranoid.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 

Clark found himself yawning during lunch, while he tried to force down the cold French fries that the cafeteria was trying to pawn off on the students today.  It was noisy, and the three friends sat together as they always did. 

"I bet the prisons get better food than this," Pete grumbled, twirling a soggy fry in his fingers.

"That's because they'd riot," Clark replied.  He looked at Chloe, "do you think it would work?"

"Huh?"  Chloe blinked, pushing her hair back from her face, "is Clark Kent recommending violence as the answer?"

Clark hunched his shoulders, embarrassed, "It was a joke, honest."

Pete laughed.  Chloe sighed, poking at her own plate with her plastic fork.  "I feel the need for a scathing editorial.  Is this supposed to be chicken?"

"Chicken stew.  I think- that's what the menu said."  Clark sighed.  "I think I've got enough change for the vending machines- I think I'm going to live off a candy bar today."  He yawned again.

"Up late working on your history paper?"  Chloe asked.

"Huh?  Oh, yeah."  Clark had finished it early- by eight, actually.  But he had snuck out to see Lex again.  "It was… a pain.  But I've got it right here-" Clark patted his pile of books.  Then looked again- the red folder wasn't in with his textbooks.  The image of him setting the report down _next_ to his backpack but not _in_ it while he ate breakfast at home flashed through his mind.  "Uh… damn.  Must have left it in my locker.  I better go get it."  He crammed a few more fries into his mouth, picking up his tray and books.

"See ya, Clark."

He waved over his shoulder, mentally calculating his route home.  He'd have to swing wide to miss any traffic, but he had 10 minutes- plenty of time.

////

Clark stopped by the edge of the field, looking over the farm.  He took a deep breath- the five miles from the school was almost hard, him looking over his shoulder so much.  This was much easier at night.  He used his X-ray vision to check it out- his parents would have his hide if he came breezing in when mom had company over.

Damn- she did have company.  Two in the house- wait, one upstairs?  Two in the barn?  And behind the storm cellar?  And where was the truck?  Oh crap!  They were at his house again!  Mom must have left, and they were planting more bugs!  Clark was furious- no, he was scared.  He knew he could run in there and take them out, but…  Then they'd know.

Clark took a deep breath; the one by the storm cellar had obviously opened the door.  But then he closed it, walking away.  Kent let the air escape from his lungs- that had been scary.

Oh wait- did they have a perimeter guard?  Clark looked around, noticing for the first time someone hiding down near the road.  Good- that was probably it, people would usually drive up to the farm.  No reason to watch the trees.  He looked around once more, then blinking his eyes.  Switching vision so much made him dizzy.

But… damn.  He couldn't get his history report.  But he couldn't leave- if they got too close to the storm cellar, he'd have to do something.  He waited, long minutes while the strangers ran around the house and the barn, obviously installing hardware.  Clark sighed, he hoped it was just microphones.  But still, how was he going to help his father with the farm work if he couldn't use his super-strength?

He waited until suddenly the group of men- there might have been one woman, Clark was starting to pick out the difference with his X-ray vision- all ran towards the road, quickly jumping in a large van that pulled up.  Clark blinked, looking at the road.  His parent's truck.

He sprinted forward, circling the field and the house, careful not to kick up dust.  The rain earlier in the week helped.  A quick jump, and he landed in the bed of the truck.  Mom turned around, and he brought his finger to his lips.  Mom couldn't make any comments.  He didn't _think_ the truck was bugged, but he wasn't going to make any guesses.

They pulled up to the house, and Clark jumped out.  Martha and Jonathan got out, and Clark began to walk towards the house, "Uh, thanks for picking me up at school, mom!  I'll just get my report and you can take me back."  He turned around, giving them a big smile.  Trying to convey with his eyes not to ask any questions.

Clark got his history report, and jogged back to the truck.   This was just great- just great.  His dad was sure to pitch a fit, even his mother was going to be furious, and what would happen if Lionel Luthor found out about him?  They hadn't slipped up, had they?

Clark spent the ride back to the school scanning the truck; looking through the dash, the roof, and the seats.  Nothing.  It surprised him, but maybe they hadn't gotten in the truck yet.  But he couldn't risk it, he'd have to go 'stargazing' tonight with his parents.

////

Patti Ramone sighed to herself.  John, her husband, had just reported their 'preliminary mission' as a success back to LuthorCorp security.  Patti, in her years experience as a security specialist at LuthorCorp (the black division, of course) had finally decided that she had the proof that Lionel Luthor had officially jumped off the deep end.  

There hadn't been anything on the Kents- besides a desire to be Lex Luthor's friend.  But that was enough for Lionel.  Apparently, they hadn't found anything because they hadn't dug deep enough.  He had ordered a complete job- they were to wire everything, to watch everything.  To find out what the Kents were really up to.

And they still had to go back and get the outlying sheds and the vehicles.  Like Patti wanted to listen to hours of Jonathan Kent riding his tractor. 

What a waste of time.

////

The strong hands of Lionel Luthor carefully removed the fur wrap draped around Jessica's shoulders.  She smiled at him, letting his eyes wander over her figure.  She smoothed the folds of her clingy teal dress, delicately stepping forward on her matching designer shoes.  Sequins glittered in the candlelight as he led her down the hallway to the dinning room.

They were eating in tonight, foregoing another public dinner at another posh restaurant.  Candles were everywhere, covering every last horizontal surface.

Jessica wondered if he always dumped his women in such romantic settings.  Two months was up- she came tonight fully expecting a 'talk' and a quiet dismissal.  Perhaps he wanted one last fling?  She felt up to it- it wouldn't be too much of a chore.  Lionel wasn't the best lover she ever had- he wasn't very responsive for one thing, and too selfish to care about her feelings.  But he was passable, and most importantly: very, very rich.

The thought of dumping him instead of waiting for it breezed though her head.  But no, it wouldn't be a good idea.  The plan called for a quiet dismissal- or she wouldn't be able to hook up with either Ravencroft or Drummand, her next two choices.  Maybe he'd give her another gift first- a going away present?  He had given such tokens before.

He helped her sit, holding out his hand for her, scooting in the chair.  He smiled down at her before taking his own chair.  Jessica smiled back, suppressing a grimace at the possessiveness that glittered in his eyes.  Inside, she fumed, '_The jerk is enjoying this- knowing he's going to let me go, thinking I'm going to be upset.  Thinking I don't know its coming.  Ugh!  I ought to leave!_'  But she held her ground.  No backing out now.

One of the staff poured the wine, stepping away.  Lionel smiled over the glass, sipping it.  "Have a good day today?"

"Yes Lionel," she purred, "shopping you know.  With Elizabeth."  One of her true friends- they had pledged the same house in college, and had roomed together.  Elizabeth had married well, but thought Jessica was still turning out to be the lucky one- Tommy would never make Lionel's pocket change, or take her all the places Jessica knew she'd get to go.  With Lionel, or the next man whose arm she hung on.

Lionel smirked, "and your tanning appointment."

"Of course."  Jessica snickered.  Tanning wasn't 'popular' anymore- but brown skin out of a bottle never looked right.  She lifted her glass, taking a sip.

She looked down, it tasted strange.  Far too sweet.  Almost like… grape juice.  She looked up, scared.  What was going on?  Lionel wasn't going to _poison_ her, was he? 

Lionel was watching her, concern on his face.  Concern that didn't reach his eyes.  "A woman in your condition shouldn't be drinking alcohol."

Jessica put the glass down with trembling fingers, absently not wanting to break the glass.  "I wasn't…  I mean… I wasn't going to… keep it."  She took a deep breath.  "Mr. Luthor, I… it was a mistake.  I didn't do it on purpose.  You needn't worry about it.  I… was going to get it taken care of, quietly."

"I prefer to think of it as fate."  His voice was cold, detached.  "And I know about your appointment.  I think you'd better cancel it."

She gulped. "Sir?"

Lionel leaned back, studying her.  "That's what I like about you Jessica.  You know your limits, and you work within them.  You knew better than to try and cross me- so you planned on taking care of everything.  Normally, I'd be touched- but I still would have had to break off the relationship.  But… things change.  And I find… that I'm in need of a heir."  He sounded very cold, there at the end.  And Jessica thought fast.

"What about Lex, your son?"  She whispered.

"He's disappointed me one too many times, Jessie."  Lionel sighed, rising from his chair, slowly tracing fingertips along the table's edge, till he was standing behind her, hands on her shoulders.  "One too many times.  And," he added, voice laced with irony, "if at first you don't succeed… well, I'm sure you know the saying."  He crouched down, beside her.

"Jessica… love.  May I call you that?  Of course I can… I think that this relationship of ours is going to last a lot longer than any of us realized.  Hum?"

She could only breathe… and let her mind whip around in a frenzy.  "What… what if it's a girl?"

Lionel smirked.  "Strangely enough, I don't know if I care.  It will be a boy, of course.  And if not- try, try-"

"Again."  Jessica whispered.  "Mr. Luthor-"

"Lionel, please, my love."  That word sounded strange from his lips- love, what did he know of it?

"Lionel… I didn't… plan…"

He laughed, but there was no humor in it.  "I know.  Neither did I.  But… why not?  You wanted to be a rich, famous, and glamorous lady on the arm of someone powerful, didn't you?  I'm surprised you're even thinking about this- I'd have thought you'd jump at the chance.  I know plenty of women who would- half the single women in this town would kill to become the next Mrs. Luthor."

"I-" She stopped herself short.  Mrs. Luthor?  Marry him?  Did he just _propose_?!?  She felt faint.  Deep breaths.  "Of course."  She nodded.  "Yes, Lionel.  My love."  The words felt empty, but couldn't think of anything else to say.  After all, wasn't this the best solution?  

She suddenly felt giddy, couldn't help but laugh a little.  This was like winning the lottery.  She would be set.  Everything would be wonderful.

Lionel Luthor smiled, hand slipping into his pocket, placing a small black velvet box beside her plate.  "I hope you like it."  He flipped open the lid.

Ms. Wellspring leaned over, the candlelight making the huge stone glitter like blue fire.  "Lionel."  She breathed.  Twenty carats at least- it had to be.  Oh… wow.  She held out a trembling hand, and he quickly picked it up, slipping it on.  He gave her a quick caste kiss on the check, before walking back to his seat.

He raised his glass of juice.  "To us."

"Yes."

////

Lionel looked out of the darkened windows or his penthouse bedroom.  "Mine, mine, mine… not."  He whispered, eyes floating over the cityscape below.  Behind him, Jessica slept in the silken sheets.  

She'd be a handful, he mussed.  Women usually were.  Once she realized that it was real, he expected all sorts of demands.  But that was easily taken care of- the girl was smart, and would probably settle for a verbal agreement of a five-year marriage and a nice divorce settlement.  Perhaps they'd put something in writing, if she was crafty enough to insist.

Lionel didn't mind.  Jessica Wellspring was smart, but she was also docile.  She was willing to work the system.  Unlike Alexander's mother.

He smiled, thinking of Lex's expression when he learned that he was about to be 'traded in'.  He'd be singing a different tune then.

////

Author's Notes:  I've seen a twenty carat ring.  It's huge, but not unwearable.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13 

It had been a long conversation with his parents earlier in the week, but nothing had been truly decided.  They had only agreed to keep someone at the farm at all times, in hopes of keeping whomever or whatever away from the farm.  But that wasn't working, and they all knew it.

Clark sighed into his coffee, glancing around the Beanery.  If Lex didn't show soon, he'd call him.  He had to- his parents didn't like Clark's solution to their problem, but Clark knew it was the only way.  They couldn't guard the farm forever.

And, after all, it was his decision to make, wasn't it?

The loud squeal of tires interrupted his thoughts.  Seconds later, Lex stalked into the Beanery.  He looked tense, even as he fell into an empty booth, carefully laying a handful of reports on the counter.  Clark smiled to himself, time for the next part of his plan. 

Clark got up, casually going over to his friend.  "Hey, Lex, what's up?"  He laid both hands on the table, drumming the counter with his fingers.

"Not much.  Busy with the plant."  Lex sighed, even as the waitress took his order.  "You?"  He didn't look up, glancing over his papers.

Clark moved one hand, briefly revealing a small folded square of paper.  He covered it again.  "Homework and such."  

"That's normal for high-school students, Clark."  Lex Luthor sounded a little condescending, he was probably down-playing their closeness while they were in public.  Lex lay another report on the table, hand inches from Clark's.  Clark moved his hand again, and Lex casually covered the paper square with his fingers.

"Yeah, well, just saying hello."  Clark stepped back, even as Lex nodded.

////

Lex was sitting on a log, leaning back, staring at the starry sky.  He heard a faint 'whosh' and looked up at Clark.  "I nearly didn't come.  Things have changed."

"I…" Clark gulped, Lex rattled on.

"There's so many stars out here.  In the country.  You can see the sky so much clearer when there isn't so much pollution.  You know?"

"Yeah.  Uh… Lex?  What happened?"

"But you miss things out here, in the country.  This morning the gossip columnists where talking about my father's engagement to Jessica Wellspring.  His girlfriend- the latest one, anyway.  I confirmed it with the staff back in the city.  He's engaged.  To that… tramp.  He's replacing mother."

Clark floundered for words.  "Oh… that's… too bad."

"_TOO BAD_?!?"  Lex hissed, only barely keeping his voice below a scream.  "Too bad?  What does he need to get married for?  Unless he's planning on having more kids- someone else to… to… to replace _me_?!?"

"Uh…. Oh."

"Yes, 'Oh.'  Exactly."  Lex looked at Clark, a scathing accusation on the cost of this friendship, on what he was paying for one teen-aged boy to look up to him. How it couldn't possibly be worth it. Instead, he asked, "What's your emergency?"  Lex felt he was in too deep to push Clark away.

"Your father had our house bugged."

"I know, you told me."

"No- all of it.  I came home in the middle of the day- I forgot my history paper, and ran back to get it- and there were people everywhere.  I hid and watched while they worked.  They've bugged the barn, the house, cameras and everything- they would have even gotten the storm cellar, but I think they ran out of time.  My parents came home.  And-"

"How many?"  Lex cut in, concerned.

"At least half a dozen, in the house."

"A full team."  Lex replied, shifting his weight.  "And?"

Clark swallowed.  He didn't like to ask for help.  "Lex… I don't want them finding… ah… something.  I need a place to hide it.  Can you help me?"

Lex paused, thinking.  '_Strange… my father was right… Clark has come to me, requesting my help.  Even if it is all his fault, my dad would be crowing right now- saying "I told you so."  But…  my god, Clark sure is nervous, he's sweating._'

"Why me?"  Lex tried to keep his voice calm.

The teen shuffled his feet kicking at the dirt.  "Because you're more likely to have someplace where I can stash it.  And… you said that you wanted to know.  Before anyone else found out."

That decided it right there- Lex knew he couldn't say 'no' now- he had to know.  "Clark.  I will help if I can.  Perhaps we can sneak it into the plant?  I had them brick up Level III again.  At least the entrance from the plant."

"It's kinda big."

"How big?"  Lex asked, curious.

"It sorta fits on the back of dad's truck- but it sticks out."

"That big?"  Lex asked, wondering.  What on Earth did Clark have that was so important?  And how did he miss something that huge on the farm?

"Uh… yeah.  Heavy too- I can lift it, but just barely.  It loads the truck down really bad.   But we've got to get it out of there, before those goons come back.  And… we can't let anyone know, Lex.  Please… do you know anywhere we can hide it?"

Lex thought to himself, running hands over his head, massaging his temples.  "This sounds crazy, but Level III is still our best choice.  There's a back way in- my father needed a way to make truck deliveries.  There's no camera on it, and it's covered up with a foot of dirt, but I bet you could dig that up in no time.  We can sneak it in at night- I'll cut the security system, we'll make it look like a failed break-in.  It will give us the cover we need.  My father won't look down there, right under his nose."

"But… won't your father know the break-in is fake?"  Clark sounded worried.

"Dear dad left a bunch of toxic chemicals down there- they are not stored properly.  I need to get them out before they start to leak, or I'm going to have a huge fine by the EPA when they find them in the groundwater.  We'll bring your ah… thing in, and take the chemicals out.  I'll just tell my father that I was cleaning up his mess.  I was planning on doing that anyway- but in a few weeks.  I'll just move up the schedule."

"How will we keep your father from finding out that we did something in the middle of the night, and that it was at the same time your plant had a break in?"

Lex sighed, hoping Clark would go along with this last part.  "You are going to help with the chemical removal, Clark.  I had nearly finished planning where to make the switch from the trucks that did the removal to those that would do the transportation.  We'll just do that on your farm- in the back."

"Dad will never go for that."  Clark sounded worried.

Lex was stunned.  "Wait… your dad… knows you're here?  Talking to me?"

Clark shrugged.  "Yeah.  He has for awhile."  Dark brows scrunched together in the moonlight.  "But I don't think he knows how much you know already."

Lex was too surprised to move.  They knew?  If Jonathan knew- Martha probably did too.  He felt a rather strange warmth in his belly.  Trust… it didn't happen very often in his world.  He took a deep breath- maybe this friendship was worth it- especially if this secret of Clark's could even the score between him and his old man.  After all, his father was bound to dump the little tramp after he made whatever point he was trying to make.  It was probably just a publicity stunt anyway. 

"Clark, I'll need him to agree- just storage space for a few days.  They aren't leaking yet, so his land will be perfectly safe.  If it helps- I'm having them transferred to a proper facility.  It's a very environmental thing to do."

"Then why do you have to sneak them out?"

Lex sighed, between OSHA and the EPA, it was a wonder he ever got anything done.  "They don't exist.  And if I suddenly 'find' them, I have to pay a large fine.  And if my overall profits go down for the quarter- well, this is easier, and cheaper, and no one gets hurt.  How about it?"

"I dunno.  I'll… ask."

////

A simple black number tonight, strapless and fitted, hanging down to her ankles with only a thin band of black sequins around the top.  A thick band of rubies around her throat (a new gift from Lionel, the dear) and matching earrings.  Jessica even had on black shoes with matching ruby accents on the toes.

And, of course, the Rock- prominently displayed on her hand.

Cupping her glass of Sprite in one hand, Jessica gently turned her fingers, letting the sparkles catch the eye of every passer-by in the restaurant.  Life couldn't be more perfect.  

She could hear their whispers, talking behind her.  She could feel the glares of some of the women in the room.  Sore losers, every one.

She smiled again, nodding at an acquaintance she had met at the last LuthorCorp party.  The woman sourly smiled back, quickly turning back to her date.  Jessica smirked- the woman had been flirting with her Lionel when they had met.

'Her' Lionel- they'd have to talk about that.  She wasn't fool enough to think he'd quit with his womanizing ways, especially when she was further along- but he'd better keep it a whole lot quieter than he was used to.  It would look bad.

There was a beeping, and Lionel picked up his phone.  "Luthor."  A long pause, and then, "I understand, tell him to call me by midnight, or I will be there in the morning."  There was pure threat in his words, and Jessica suppressed a shutter.

He smiled at her, and she asked, "problems?"  It would be the right thing to say.

"Someone tried to break into one of my plants.  The one in Smallville…" He trailed off, furious look in his eye.

"Oh."  Jessica replied, Lex was a forbidden topic.  "The veal is quite good tonight- how was your swordfish?"

He gave a bitter smile.  "Good enough."

////

Lex yawned, looking at his watch.  Ten o'clock- he had one hour and fifty-five minutes until he had to call his father.  He smirked, straightening his tie.  No reason to call early- it would be much more fun to make the old man wait up for him.  Might even ruin his night out with the tramp.

No, no reason to call-yet.  After all, he had enough time, he could run down to Level III and check out whatever Clark and Jonathan put down there while he was cutting the security system.  It should be interesting.

////

Author's Notes:  You're going to kill me.  I know it, but I don't care.  It's 130 in the morning here and I have to get up at 5 to prepare for my flight- I'm going on vacation till Feb. 5th.  That's right- Chapter 14 is two weeks away.  I had really hoped to reach a better conclusion by now, but the plot wants to be more interesting than that- and who am I to argue?  Sorry for the wait.  But… it's going to be fun, okay?  You should see what I've got planned for the baby and daddy.  Hee hee… 


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Clark huddled further into his coat jacket.  It was cool down here in Level III, cool- but that wasn't what made him shiver.  Doubts were creeping around in his mind.

Just thirty minutes ago, he and his father had finished loading the last of the steel drums aboard the truck.  Jonathan had reservations about the whole deal; but something had to be done- Lionel's men where getting closer and closer to the storm cellar.  They had quickly loaded Clark's ship onto the truck at sunset, using the fading light to confuse their watchers.  

Clark hadn't seen anyone hanging around the property, spying on them.  There hadn't been any cameras on the yard either.  At least, not yet.

Jonathan and Clark had driven, the older man tight-lipped and tense, to the edge of the Luthor plant.  Clark had been nervous as well, but more for the truck.  It was sagging alarmingly under the weight of the large canvas wrapped burden he had loaded into the back.

It had been easy to find the 'hidden' entrance to the underground passageway that led to Level III.  The dirt that had covered the entrance had worn away in places, leaving it easy for Clark to open the large concrete doors that had been set into the hill.  

So now he sat- his father had taken the drums to the back corner of the Kent property (after inspecting each of them in turn for leaks or holes), but Clark wanted to wait.  Lex would probably be down soon.  And Clark needed to be here when Lex looked under that tarp.

////

"Sir."  The LuthorCorp Plant Three security guard nervously approached Lex Luthor.  "Sir, we haven't found any further traces of the... ah... thieves, sir."

The bald man growled, "Damn.  Probably industrial espionage.  I have to call my father soon." He rolled his eyes, watching as the guard winced.  No one liked dealing with Lionel Luthor.  Lex smiled benevolently at the guard.  "That's alright.  Just wrap it up here, and I'll be in my office."  He turned on one heel, walking away from the man in the security uniform.

Once in his office, Lex sighed, sitting in the chair.  Ten-thirty, he thought he could have gotten away from these people by now- but every time he turned around, another one had to speak with him, and not the plant manager.  

Who hadn't shown up till 15 minutes ago- if he hadn't have been Chloe's father, Lex might have given him a dressing down in front of everyone.   But this wasn't worth firing him over.  Even if Lex felt his father might be upset with him for not getting rid of the man.

But now, now no one was watching.  Lex was going down to Level III.  His cover story for his father- that he had been getting rid of his dad's leftover mess would cover this little trip.

One thing that Lionel Luthor was famous for was his ego- and all the little perks that his ego demanded.  Lex had never been grateful for those little perks before.  But this little perk just made his life easier.

Lionel Luthor demanded that each of his plants have an office for him.  Usually, the room stood empty, except for the few brief days each year Lionel Luthor might tour a facility, or, heaven forbid, come to correct a problem.  When Lex had been banished to Smallville, he had taken over his father's office at the plant.  Lex had simply rationalized it as him being his father's representative, but after finding out about Level III, Lex had found the other little perk of this particular room.

His office had a bathroom, and beside it, a small janitor closet, and in the back- a door.  That led to a spiral staircase, that plunged itself into darkness as it traveled down.

Lex's expensive shoes clanked against the metal of each step as Lex waved the flashlight in front of him.  It wasn't that surprising that his father had a private entrance into his clandestine Level III installed from his office.  Lex grimly smiled as he reached the bottom.  No, this wasn't surprising at all.

Lex looked around, finding the large canvas wrapped thing, Clark beside it.

The young man looked up.

"How did it go?"  Lex asked.  He wasn't too surprised that Clark was still here.  He gestured, and Clark looked him up and down before giving him the thumbs up sign.  Good- any bugs he had been carrying were presently upstairs, with his coat and phone.

Clark shrugged.  "All right.  Dad's not really happy, but..." Clark paused, "and how did it go for you?"

Lex chuckled.  "LuthorCorp had a little attack of Industrial espionage.  The security system was breached, but the fail-safes started it back up again, just as planned.  There is a worm in the mainframe that will show up tomorrow, decrying the use of LuthorCorp pesticides and destroying worthless data.  (Not the backups, however)  It looks like a half-baked attempt by a liberal environmentalist group."

"So... it went well?"

Lex shrugged, walking up to the thing, wrapped up on the floor.  It was oblong, slightly tapered on one end, and looked...   "Well enough."  Lex announced.  He looked at Clark, one eyebrow raised.  Looked back at the mystery sitting on the floor.  Then he smiled at Clark, "I'm dying here Clark, what is it?"

Clark sighed.    Walked forward, and carefully started to unwrap it.  He loosened ropes and piled them to the side, then carefully started to peel back the tarp.

Lex absently noticed that the tarp was stiff, as if it had hung on the object for may years.  Dust was caked into it- and Lex was willing to bet that the smudges of dirt on his friend were from the dust that probably poured off of it when it was moved from whatever resting place the Kents had kept it.

He sneezed.  "Don't have all night, Clark.  I have to call my father and…" Lex paused, walking forward.

One hand carefully reached out, brushing fingers against smooth curves.  Squat, with pointed nose and stubby fins, a round pod like... cockpit?... with a clear... glass?  Plexiglas?... cover.    Lex leaned over, looking inside.  Where those controls?  The writing, it wasn't English, or any other language based on Roman style lettering.  And it shimmered.  Maybe glowed.

"Ahhh...  Clark?"  He wished there was better lighting in here.

"Yeah?"  The young man sounded resigned, Lex barely noticed.

"Is this what I think it is?"

"Probably."

It couldn't be.  "Is this supposed to be a spaceship?"  The design certainly looked like a ship- a really small ship.

Clark shrugged, and looked sheepish.  

Lex smirked.  "Who sold you that swampland in Florida?  Clark- I never took you for a fool.  It's too small for one thing- the engine can't take up more than half of its length.  And there's no room for the compressed air, and...  Good god, you really do believe this is a spaceship."  Clark was looking offended, but Lex just shook his head, and laughed.

"It's a good fake, I'll give you that."  Lex said, walking around it again, Clark was frozen on the far side, even as Lex brushed his hand along the smooth (warm?) side.  It was cooler before.  

The businessman sighed.  "All right, farm boy.  What makes you think it's real?"  Clark could be so stubborn sometimes- but that's what made him so... innocent.  He didn't bend.  Solid as a rock- that was Clark.

Who was standing right beside him.  Only the slightest breeze told Lex that Clark had moved again- in that impossibly fast way of his.

Clark was looking at him earnestly.  "It came down with the meteors.  Dad found it in the field."

"The meteors."  Lex couldn't forget that day, even when he tried.  His scalp itched, just thinking about it.  He rubbed one hand over his head, noticing Clark's wince.  "Found it in the field?  In a big crater, I assume- smoking from the heat."  Lex sighed, not knowing what to believe.  Clark... wasn't the type to lie.

"Yes."

Lex looked at Clark, one eyebrow rising.  "And your dad- who is as red-blooded an American as I have ever seen- didn't call the United States government and tell them?  If nothing else- this just screams government secret project."

Clark scrunched up his forehead in that funny way of his, looking even more sheepish.  "I... sorta came with it, Lex."

"Came with?"

"Uh... yeah.  I'm adopted, you know.  They found me wandering around in the field, with the...  my... ah, ship."  Clark scuffed at the floor with his shoes.  Lex was almost surprised he hadn't dug a hole through the floor with his toes. 

Lex blinked, whispering, "You're kidding me."  Clark just watched, and Lex realized he wasn't kidding.  Lex stepped back, looking over the ship, looking at Clark.  It was possible, he guessed.  This _was_ a spaceship- especially if Clark said so.  For a really short flight- perhaps just one revolution around the Earth, and then it would land.  The cockpit was probably mounted atop several stages of rockets to get it into outer space. 

"You mean that... some government sent you up into space when you were a kid?  I had no idea that any of the governments or independent groups were using children." Lex snorted, "and they think LuthorCorp has dark secrets."  An experiment, of course- that would have offended the morals of Jonathan and Martha Kent.  No wonder they didn't call the authorities.  No telling shat would happen, they might be forced to give Clark back to whatever group sent him up in the first place.

Clark's reply was quiet.  "I'm not... an experiment."  There was a pause, as Lex continued to look over the ship, checking the underside.  "At least, I don't… think so."

Lex took a deep breath.  "There aren't many other possibilities, Clark.  If you came in this- you are either a scientifically designed super-being, or… an alien from another planet.  Which is ridiculous. Why would aliens send a child?"

Clark was silent.  Lex looked between the craft and his friend.  He sighed.  "As much as I want to take it apart" Clark looked alarmed at that, "just to find out the secrets of whoever made it, I don't have time.  Tonight anyway."  

Lex rubbed his head, Luthor thoughts running though his skull, making him giddy.  "You know, we could probably make a fortune marketing technologies from your ship.  It looks pretty far advanced- better than the space shuttle."

And Clark looked predictably alarmed at that.  Lex gave him a reassuring smile.  "Fifty-fifty?  No?  Think of all the good we could do for humanity."

Clark shook his head.  "Your… father- he would make bombs."

It was like pouring ice-water over him.  Lex shuttered.  "Of course, it is the highest profit margin."  His father probably already was involved in arms dealing; Lex wouldn't put it past him.  And what would be the difference in manufacturing them?  And… Lex didn't want to be known as the maker of weapons of mass destruction.  

Besides, dear old dad would probably cut him out of the loop.

Lex shook his head to clear it.  "We could write a contract around that."  Lex paused.  "No- your right, that wouldn't work."  He sighed, deeply.  "He'd still find out, and then it would be a matter of time."  Lex stepped back.    "Cover it back up, Clark.  And… can you pour dirt over it as well?"  Best to remove temptation.  After all, the whole idea was to show his father up- not hand him a golden goose.

But he'd have to think hard about this- to find a way.  The money he could make- his father would be fuming.

Clark was wrapping the tarp back over the ship as Lex began to pace.

The younger man's hesitant voice cut into his tumbling thoughts.  "Lex?"

"Yes Clark?"

"You… aren't really going to take it apart, are you?  I mean… I don't even know what powers it- it could explode or something."

"Damn… you're right."  Lex stopped, fuming.  Damn his father- he was always in the way.  He needed proper equipment; and he couldn't get it without his father finding out.

"No, Clark I won't."  Lex's lips twisted into a grimace.  "It's going to have to sit here, all safe and sound."  He took a deep breath, "_BUT_, I will admit to you that it is going to drive me crazy.  I want to find out how it works- how they managed to miniaturize all the circuits that well, how they built it, what materials it is made of.  Everything.  And I was serious about the financial possibilities of its technologies."

"No weapons."  Clark said, throwing the last rope over the canvas.

Lex nodded.  "Of course not."  Didn't need to make weapons to make a fortune.  He just had to wait- until his father wasn't watching so hard.  Speaking of which-

"Clark, I have to call my father.  Can you find your way out?"

"Yeah- I can outrun the north security cameras- the gap in the pattern is long enough.  See you Sunday for dinner?"

"Wouldn't miss it."  Lex smiled, headed for the staircase.  "And Saturday night?"

"Yeah."

////

Author's Notes:  I really think that Lex wouldn't automatically think 'alien' when thinking about Clark.  In fact, I think he won't realize it right away- the idea is too outlandish.  But he'll figure it out soon.

Also, jet lag is a *&#$, so I'm only finishing part 'A' of this chapter today.  And I only got this far because I wrote half of it on vacation.  

(Did you know that the bullet trains of Japan go 184kmph?  That's like 120mph- or 'really fast'.  And those of you who care- I had a really great time.)


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 14b 

Lex wearily walked to his bed, dropping the plush nightgown to the floor.  Clad only in boxers he climbed in between the silken sheets, pulling the thick blankets up to his chin.

The phone 'conversation' he had had with his father still ringing in his ears.  

_"You WHAT?"_

_"I never gave you permission for that!"_

_"Plausible deniability?!?!  Don't even try throwing that phrase at me!"_

_"So where did you put them?"_

_"I'll find out anyway- don't get smart."_

_"You're ten times the idiot I thought you were if you think I'll believe that!"_

He rolled over in the bed, telling himself it didn't matter.  Lionel was too busy to come down, and that was all that counted.  It wasn't important what that sorry waste of flesh thought of him, what he said to him.

No, far better to think about nicer things.  Things like what it would be like to take apart Clark's ship.

Lex smiled.  He remembered taking apart things when he was little.  Electronic toys never lasted longer than it took him to find a screwdriver.  Shiny metal parts and little plastic pieces were tiny treasures with mysterious secrets to him.  He loved finding out how things worked, how things fit together.

Mother encouraged him, buying him books, taking him to museums.  She bought him science kits for Christmases and birthdays. Tinker toys and erector sets.  Even buying spare phones, typewriters, and even a computer to take apart.

His father always frowned at his behavior- a Luthor used things like phones and typewriters, not took them apart.  They were tools to build the empire, not important mysteries.  Father had always been so disapproving of his scientific mind.  It was wasted brainpower.  Alexander Luthor was supposed to be smart, with money- not _things_.

Lex sighed.  Closing his eyes.  '_Pictures, I should have taken pictures,_' he thought, '_that writing- I don't remember seeing anything like it before.  Probably highly stylized Arabic- I'd recognize anything Japanese.  And I'd love to look at the batteries- it still had some power reserves after twelve years_.'

'_Huh.  Twelve years.  Amazing.  I had no idea anyone was that far ahead of anything in the US all those years ago.  Even LuthorCorp Labs, which could give NASA a run for the money.'_  Lex tossed on his bed, '_Who could have built it?  It was practically seamless, the skin smooth as glass, and very well insulated.  Or it wouldn't have been warm._'

'_Who on Earth could have built it?'_

Lex became very, very still.  Then shook himself.

_'Your being silly, go to sleep.'_

////

In his own bed, cotton sheets tucked up to his chin, Clark stared at the ceiling.  Lex thought he was an experiment.  That some government or secret agency somewhere had made him.  The thought of test tubes and white rooms filled with unfathomable equipment filled his mind.

'_What if it's true?  What if I really _**am**_ human, just different- with added bonuses?  It's not like I'm green, or have six legs, or look like ET.  I could be someone's idea of what the perfect human could do._'

'_Genetic engineering- we learned about it in school.  I could be a designed leap forward in evolution… a super-being from science._'  Clark shifted on the bed, squeezing his eyes shut.  '_A super-man, and for what?  A super-soldier, probably._'

'_God, I hope not_.'  Clark prayed, he didn't normally, but this was a special case. '_I don't want to have been made to kill.  I don't want that to be my purpose in life.  Please._'

He paused, remembering.  _'But- why am I allergic to the green rocks?  That would be a silly weakness for a super-soldier.  And… my eyes have to be way different from anyone else's to see through walls.  And… even if I was made to be super-strong, how am I so invulnerable?  And the floating- it breaks the laws of physics.  If someone made me from human stock, how did they manage to make me so different?  How did they have the knowledge to back then?_'

'_It would make more sense to be an alien.  Right?_'  The empty air didn't answer.

Clark sighed, realizing he wouldn't really be able to answer the questions without running some tests- in a shiny lab someplace with white-coated technicians. The last place he ever wanted to be.

////

Paperwork- his life revolved around paperwork.  Lex growled to himself, rubbing his temples and tossing another report into the out box.  He hated this- the plant managers should be doing it, but he didn't trust them.  Hand-picked by his father, every one. 

"Mr. Luthor, sir?  Some of the employees would like to see you, if you have a minute."

Lex sighed.  "Claire, did they pass security?"

"Yes sir."

"Send them in."  Open door policies were a massive waste of time some days.

Three men and two women came in, each wearing the blue uniform of the lower technicians of the plant.  They all smiled nervously, one of them stepping forward.  Lex put on his best politician's face, smiling and friendly.

"Sir," the one in front began, it sounded rehearsed, "we just wanted to take a brief moment to thank you for the new programs.  We, well, our kids are at the daycare, and it been easier to drop them off on our way to work."

"Yes, and we love the new 401k choices as well."  The woman behind him piped up.  The rest nodded their heads.  Lex just smiled, hiding his surprise.

"Oh, ah- thank you."  He said, nodding.  "It's been a pleasure."

"Well, we don't want to take up any of your time."  The group nodded again, and then turned and left.

Lex sat there, smile spreading on his face.  He grabbed the next report, tempted to laugh.  It was working- the plant employees were starting to feel loyalty to him, not his father.

////

Moonlight and wet leaves, darkness and mud on his shoes- Lex wondered at why his life had turned out this way.  The air smelled like fresh rain and dirt here between the two freshly plowed fields.   Lex breathed deep, savoring the air.  It tasted fresh, unlike the stale fumes of Metropolis.

There was a time when the only reason he would have been waiting in this stand of trees in the middle of a Saturday night was to buy some powder.  His only plans revolving around buying a little artificial bliss and picking which object of the female persuasion he'd take to his bed that night.  His only goal was to make it through the boredom and tediousness of life as a spoiled ultra-rich brat.  

Life was more complicated now.  His schedule revolved around business meetings, not drunken parties.  His plans involved companies and stocks, not fake friends and dime bags.

A twig snapped, and Lex looked over.  Clark, of course- and he probably had made that noise on purpose.  Lex gave him a small smile.  "I'm feeling philosophical tonight." 

"Is that a good thing?"

"Probably.  It makes me think about the future."  Lex motioned to a fallen, log, taking a seat himself.  "Clark, what do you want to do with your life?"

"Uh… I don't know.  I… like helping people, maybe… I don't know, I guess I could be a police man or a doctor."

"I'm not surprised- Have you ever heard of the Nobel Peace Prize?"

Clark smiled.  "Public school isn't that bad, Lex."

Lex smiled back in the dim light.  "I know.  Did you know that Alfred Nobel, who started the prize- who set up the funds- was the same man who had developed better gunpowder and made guns and cannons?  You know why he spent all that money on setting up the Nobel Prizes?  His brother had died, but the press got it wrong and thought he had been the one to pass on.  So they released his obituary in the papers.  It talked about his various accomplishments in developing better ways to kill people.  Dear Alfred was ashamed, he didn't like what he had left behind as his legacy."

"So he started the Nobel Prizes.  To change his legacy."

Lex watched the trees, little green leaves were starting to unfurl from their buds.

Clark cleared his throat.  "And what do you want to do with your life, Lex?"

Lex got up, started to pace.  "When I walk down the street, everyone reacts differently.  They'll stare, or glare, or act all polite- but they never respect me.  Mostly because of my father, because of my _legacy_- but it still bothers me."

Lex looked over at Clark.  "I don't want to be another Luthor, Clark.  I don't want to rule with an iron fist over the serfs.  I want people to look up to me.  Oh, don't get me wrong- I'm no Mother Teresa, and I don't want to be.  I _like_ being rich.  I've realized that I like owning the plant, making decisions and trying to earn a better profit margin.  And I like it when people respect me for doing a good job."

Clark shifted, "You have done a good job at the plant, Lex.  I don't care what your dad says.  People have been talking in town you know- they like what you've done."

"I know.  I actually had a couple plant workers come up to me and thank me Friday."

"Really?"  Clark enthused, "That's great!"

"Yes- it is.  It means that there are at least ten times as may people who think the same as they do, but don't bother to say anything."  Lex leaned back from where he stood, looking up.  "And daddy dearest is going to be furious about it."

"Huh?  Why?  I mean- if they like you, he should be happy… oh-" Clark paused at Lex's look, "they like you more than him, right?"

"Exactly."  The last of Lex's smile faded, looking away he said, "Where you followed?"

"No- but it's getting harder.  I think they'll figure out that I'm gone- the room is bugged, and they won't hear me breathing right now."

"They are going to figure it out."  Lex stated it as the fact it was.  "But what do we want to do about it- that's the question."  Lex began to pace again, realizing the next part was the trickiest.  "Clark, I've been thinking these last few days.  The last thing I ever want- and you know me well enough to know this is the absolute truth- the last thing I want is for my father to figure out that you're different.  You, your family, you've been good friends to me.  And I don't want my father to get his hands on any of this."

Clark watched Lex, tension in his shoulders.  "Why do I think your going to add a 'but' to that statement?"

Lex nodded.  "Not really.  I don't want my father to find out anything.  So… when he finally gives up… Your ship- it's a wealth of knowledge to be tapped.  A resource.  I wasn't kidding when I said that we could make a lot of money using its technology to produce goods- to make things better and cheaper than the current market.  The life-support alone could far advance anything I know of in the medical field.  It would help a lot of people."

"And make you rich."

Lex laughed.  "I am rich."

"It's your father's money."  Clark whispered.

Lex blinked.  Was this really what it was about?  Well, he mussed, perhaps it was.  But did it matter?  "Both of us, Clark.  No more worries for the farm, no more following my father's orders.  And-" He knew this would make a difference to Clark- "we would get to make the world a better place.  You'd get to help out more people than you'll ever meet in person, and I'll get some real respect."

Clark was studying the ground.  "Everybody wins."

Lex moved over to Clark, laying a hand on his shoulder.  "In a few years, Clark.  Not right away.  We can't risk it.  My father's watching too close right now.  Will you think about it?"

"I-" Clark started, but fell silent.

"No weapons- I'll write it up in our contract.  But like I said, it will be at least 6 months before we can even look your ship over.  Probably years before we can really move anything into product development.  I just want you to think about it."

"Yeah."  Clark looked up.  "Okay."

"Good."

"Yeah.  Uh… Lex… I probably better get back."

"Probably.  See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

////

Patti growled at the piece of paper in front of her.  "Information deigned!  What kind of bureaucracy is this!?!"

Beside her, Sam made shushing noises.  "Patti- I'm trying to sleep!"  

She sighed, looking at her partner for the night.  He was sprawled out on the floor of the van, one arm thrown over his face.  Twenty-four hour surveillance was a complete pain in the ass sometimes.  The manual called for two operatives on duty at all times, but why did it require two people to watch three people sleep?  Or more accurately, listen to three people sleep.  They hadn't bothered with cameras on the second floor.

"Sorry," Patti grumbled.  "But apparently we aren't important enough to get sonny-boy's schedule."

Sam sighed.  "Patti- we don't know that our surveillance has anything to do with Lex Luthor's relationship with the Kents.  And you know as well as I do that the Luthors are fanatical about security.  Of course Lionel Luthor doesn't want us to know his son's every move, we aren't assigned to him."

The middle-aged woman with gray-streaked hair sighed deeply.  "I don't know, Sam.  I'm convinced that something is up between the two- why else would Mr. Luthor care?"

"Patti."

"Oh, all right.  All right.  I just hope that Lex Luthor's team is allowed to see our reports."  She turned back to her monitors, listening to the breathing coming over the three channels as she did the paperwork for the day.  Splitting her attention between report forms and surveillance was also against the manual- but she was behind.

////

The air was dusty in the cellar underneath the servant's quarters of the Luthor mansion.  Two men flipped between computer screens and video monitors, one idly eating a sandwich while the other read a gardening magazine.

"Hey John, the Kent weekly report came in this afternoon."

"Oh joy.  I'd hate to be that team.  Let me guess- Ma Kent went to the store to buy groceries and Pa Kent planted corn.  Sonny Kent went to school."

"Pretty much."  The man took another bite of his sandwich.  "But it's got to be more fun than chasing Sonny Luthor around.  He still stargazing?"

John grunted.  "Yeah.  Always the same.  Drives out someplace, sits on his car hood, watches the stars."

"Sounds boring."

"Yeah."

(After all, John wasn't about to loose his job because one rich little snot kept giving him the slip.  Besides, what hard could it do if Lex just wanted to get out of this damn house once in a while?)


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16 

Her head throbbed, the pounding headache raging at her while she massaged her temples with one hand, the other rooting through the medicine cabinet.  "Damn it Lionel, where do you keep the aspirin?  Or do Luthors never get headaches?"

Jessica felt bloated, her feet hurt, and her head was pounding.  And where- was- the- damn- aspirin?!?  

It was bad enough to spend the six hours at the LuthorCorp function last night listening to fake congratulations and muttered innuendos, but to do it without a single glass of wine?  But Lionel was very firm, nothing could risk the baby.

God- it was getting to be a nightmare.  She had already had four- count them- _four_ doctor's appointments.  They had poked her with needles and changed her diet, and put her on these huge vitamin pills.  The doctors had tisked and tusked and generally made a fuss about her eating habits, her exercise habits and even- get this- her _shoes_!  High heels would stress her back and knees, she'd have to wear sensible shoes 'whenever possible'.  And no more diet pills- how was she supposed to keep her figure?

And yes, doctor**_s_**, as in more than one, and why did she need them anyway?  It wasn't like women hadn't been having babies for thousands of years without them.  And a whole group was apparently needed- specialists and nurses and even a damn midwife- just to prepare for the coming event.  There was talk of _natural_ childbirth.  As if she didn't plan on being out for the whole of it.

And let's not even talk about all the books and reading they thought she might want to read.

Damn- Her head _hurt_.

And all she wanted to do was cry.  And whine, and yell, and maybe make a scene.  A nice, huge, scene in front of lots of people-, which only wanted to make her cry some more.

Jessica didn't make scenes.  Jessica was a fun, sexy, pert, beautiful lady that the richest man in America- and probably the world- wanted on his arm.

And Jessica _WAS NOT_ some whiny, crying, sobbing, _nauseous_ (god yes, that had started- and who was the fool that called it Morning Sickness?  She felt like running to the nearest sink ALL the TIME!) Crying, soon to be FAT little hormonally challenged ninny.  She wasn't!!!!

The doctors had told her that, and warned Lionel, that she'd been emotional.  That her hormones would be giving her moodswings.  That it was normal.

Damn!  Damn!  Damn!  Lionel had probably hidden the damn pills!  Augh!  When was she getting her life back??!?

////

Author's Notes:  I know that this is bad of me to make it so short, but once I got back to the office after my vacation, I had a ton of work to do.  That meant working late- and I didn't feel like writing, I was too tired to make it good.  I'm still a little busy, so I'm going to make really short chapters and get them out as soon as I can for a while.

I'd also like to thank everyone who has written me reviews- they are really encouraging, I don't think I would have kept at this at all if people hadn't written reviews (which is a hint to all you readers, please encourage ALL us authors, we really appreciate it).  And if anyone is uncomfortable writing criticisms on an open board, feel free to e-mail my addy.

Lastly- no one has pointed it out yet, but I felt like explaining myself anyway.  I've been using the word 'god', and not spelling it with a capital 'G', even if some of the English classes I've had in school said I was supposed to.  This is because I think that God should only be capitalized if your talking about Him, (or Her, if that's your choice), and not when you're swearing.  It's a respect thing. 


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17 

Lionel Luthor lifted the glass of whiskey to his lips, taking the smallest of sips.  A single malt, brought over from Scotland from his own father's favorite distillery.  Lionel didn't like it as much as some other drinks, but it was good to remind yourself of family traditions sometimes.  To honor his father, and all that he taught him.  

The last of the day's rays were streaking through the windows over the grand entrance to Luthor Manor, patterning the floor as Lionel waited, watching as the silver Lamborghini pulled up to the door, and his cancer-ward reject of a son hopped out.  Lex was all swagger as he stepped through the door.

At least until he noticed his father sitting there, waiting.

The man-child looked stunned, but he covered it well.  Lionel just smirked at the human waste that was his son- he had been rather quiet about coming up here on this Sunday night.  Lionel had let his son trick himself into thinking he wouldn't come down after that joke of a 'break-in'. And then timing it such that he didn't have any meetings, and not telling anyone his plans till he asked for the helicopter.  No one knew he was coming- but Lionel planned it such that he arrived at the manor not ten minutes before Lex got back from his little 'dinner party' with the Kents.  He was ready and waiting.

Lionel sniffed the air.  "What did you do, slop the pigs?  You smell like manure."

The bald boy's eyes narrowed, "They don't keep pigs- or didn't you know that?  Oh wait, I forgot, you know everything."  Sarcasm dripped from his words.

Lionel gave him a condescending smile.  "Let's go to the car- I want you to show me what you're doing at the plant."

Lex blinked- obviously taken aback.  But he just nodded, and followed.

Lionel ordered the limo brought around- he wasn't about to step into that death trap his son drove.  He knew what speeds Lex normally drove at, and how much he was paying off the cops to never notice.

That was the only good thing about Smallville.  The cops were cheap.  And it was far, far from Metropolis.

The billionaire looked over Lex, sitting across from him, watching him back.  Lex looked petulant, slouched in the seat.  Like the spoiled little brat that he was.  He was wearing a white, green, and blue patterned sweater and tan dress pants over muddy boots.  Cowboy boots, to be exact.  And that probably wasn't mud.

"Interesting footwear."  Lionel remarked, hitting a button to let the window open a crack.

"Functional."  Lex replied, "We were ridding with Lana Lang."

He grunted in response.  "I don't think you'll ever manage to get those two together.  It's a waste of time and resources."

"It's idle amusement."  Lex flippantly replied.

Lionel didn't grace that silly remark with a response.  They fell into silence.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18 

"Ta-da!  The plant," Lex gave the view from the catwalk one overly-done sweep of his arm, stepping back to let his father see.  "Which, except for a few minor changes, is exactly as it was last time you saw it."

Lionel grunted, looking over the maze of pipes, tanks, and valves erected like children's toys across the wide concrete floor.  The main feed snaked down the center of the room, leading onto the next room.  There, the fertilizer was either dissolved into its liquid form to be sold in large 50 gallon drums, or packed into 50 pound bags as a dry powder.

The billionaire stepped to the rail, looking down at the night-watchman tracking through the large room.  The man looked up, and said something into his walkie-talkie.  Then he waved.

Beside Lionel, his son waved back, the both of them then watching the man walk into a side room.

"They like you."  Lionel said, voice emotionless.

Lex shrugged, and Lionel knew that his son wasn't about to say anything else.  

"It's not you they like."  Lionel added, "You've just bought them with those benefits.  It's a bribe- and like many bribes, you'll have to pay it over and over again, ad infinitum." 

"And like you've taught me, some bribes are worth paying."  Lex softly replied.

Lionel turned, glaring.  "The _workers_-" he said the word with scorn, "-of Plants 2 and 4 have announced their intension to strike if they are not awarded the same benefits as Plant 3 within 60 days.  My informants report that Plant 1 workers are currently talking with the organizers of the others, in order to 'join up'.  Do you have _any_ idea how much your little bribe is going to cost me?" 

Lex didn't look at him.  "If you want, you can let me look at the numbers- I'm sure pulling another rabbit out of the hat will be easy.  After all, providing the same benefits-"

"_NO_."  Lionel hissed.  "My family didn't work so hard in keeping the _damn unions_ out of LuthorCorp holdings, just so some half-cocked illiterate high-school dropouts could force my hand to give them _daycare_."

His son sighed.  "I don't understand your concerns.  The daycare is practically an independent enterprise.  Why are you so against it?"

"And a larger 401k portfolio selection, and a damn doctor on the plant grounds-"

"The doctor reduces accident claims by giving a second opinion on any false claims.  And he reduces sick leave, because he's convenient.   Besides, the employee's insurance company pays him.  It was in my report."

"It takes time and energy by LutherCorp employees to arrange these services, Lex."  Lionel ground out, furious.  "That's overhead," he snarled, "which you should know."

"It's minor."  Lex replied, politely.  "I'm sure if you look over the numbers you'll see the long-term benefits.  I could easily run up some predictions on the other plants-"

"_NO_."  The boy didn't think he was so stupid as to give him control of more factories, did he?  "And I mean it."  Lionel snarled.  "Now- let's see the offices.  I have other matters to discuss with you."  It was time to show the boy his true place in the scheme of things.

They walked there in silence, Lex following like the reluctant child that he was.  Lionel sneered as he caught the young man's reflection in a passing window.  The young heir- so soon to be disposed, Lionel knew, was thoughtful.  Even if it was too late for that small brain of him to start working, Lionel wondered what he'd do when he heard.

The entered Lionel's office.  He glared at the papers stacked on the polished wooden desk, the obviously stocked mini-bar in the corner.  Lex had assumed that he had rights to this room.  

"Level III, child.  I want to see it."  Lionel ground out.  

Lex sighed, turning towards the back of the room, and the bathroom.  Lionel wasn't surprised that Lex had found the stairs- he had read the report on the surveillance team that had watched Lex disappear down that hidden entrance.  Lex grabbed a flashlight out of the desk, and then headed for the stairs.

"Never found the light switch?"  Lionel whispered, loud enough for his son to hear.

"Had the power cut."  Lex sounded indifferent, but Lionel wondered at the catch in his voice.  And who had he hired to cut the power?

They clanked down the stairs, Lionel following him.  Frowning at the fact that Lex had the only flashlight.  It would ruin his fun, not to see the boy's face clearly when he heard the news.

They reached the bottom of the stairs.  Dust swirled in the dark air.  Lionel breathed the damp air, idly hoping that none of developmental chemicals that they had tested in this facility were still lying around. 

Lionel looked around, noticing the round scrapes in the dust where the drums must have sat.  They were gone- just like Lex had told him.  He frowned, realizing that he had lost one more tool to control the younger Luthor- Lex would have been required to deal nicely with Lionel in ten years, just to take care of this now nonexistent problem.

"It's a big, empty warehouse."  Lex said to the open air, turning around to face his father.  "And you know that.  Why did you want to talk to me here?"  The flashlight's dim beam bounced around the huge room, flicking over a large pile of garbage in the corner and the broken catwalk above.  

"I'm getting married in April."  It had been a push- it was hard to get a properly organized ceremony arranged by then.  And they couldn't rush too much, it was unseemly.  Even if Lionel was tempted just to run off to Vegas and be done with it.  

"I know.  I read it in the papers."  Lex was cool, his father could give him that.  Even if he knew the boy was furious.

"And I expect you to attend."  Lionel paused, then continued, "and to be on your best behavior."

"Or… you'll replace me?"  Lex asked, voice wry.  Almost disbelieving.

"Yes."  And here was the _coup de grace_ "I wasn't going to get married, you know."  He said it off-handily, wishing he could see his precious Alexander in the darkness, "But Jessica is pregnant."

There was a silence, the flashlight beam suddenly frozen.  Lionel allowed himself to grin wide like the Cheshire Cat.  '_Oh, the little brat's dreams are falling down.  Opps.  Should have listened to your father, young man.  Have to play this game by the rules.'_

"Ah."  Lex said, "I'm surprised- that's never bothered you before."

Lionel glared, but wasn't surprised Lex knew about his early exploits.  After all, that was one reason he picked Smallville when he had sent Lex away.  This was one town that would be unlikely to turn a blind eye towards Lex's playboy ways.  Lionel's own reputation had preceded the young Luthor here.  It kept Lex out of any more trouble.

Lionel replied, "Things are different now.  Situations are different."

"Really?"  Strange, his boy sounded angry.  Whatever did he think would happen?  Foolish child- trying to show him up.

"Yes."  Lionel ground out.  "You needed to remember, that you are not irreplaceable.  That your… position… in this family is not assured.  And- you need to behave yourself."

Lex was silent.  Lionel nodded in the dark, and then turned back to the stairs.  He climbed them slowly, smirking in the dark when his son followed.

Perfect.  Threats would keep Lex in line for several years- and he'd keep his hands off his younger brother out of fear.  

Lionel squished the thought that Jessica might be carrying a girl.  People were already whispering that Jessica was pregnant- the girl was beginning to show, after all.  Therefore Lionel couldn't order her to have an abortion if it was a girl- someone would find out, and the PR would be a catastrophe.  

So, it just had to be a boy.  He had asked the doctors not to tell him- he didn't need to know.  Just like he never needed to look out his office windows.  He didn't need to dwell on what he couldn't change.

Lionel ignored his son as they walked back to the car and drove back.  This little problem was taken care of.

////

Lex sipped the brandy, letting it burn his throat.  _'He's replacing me.  The **bastard**- I'll be better for LutherCorp than he would ever be.  Or some yes-man carbon copy he'd raise._'

The irony of being only a half a room length from what would undoubtedly bring him back into his father's good graces had not been lost on Lex.  The ship- it had been sitting right there.  He had almost walked across the room right then and shown it to him- convinced that his father had known about it anyway.

But the reason behind their little visit to Level III was far more sinister.

'_Replacing me_.'

Lex took another swallow, and then got up for bed.  He needed to think.  Think about what he'd do.  How to use the cards in his hand to deal himself a winning hand.

'_And my hidden Ace- Clark.  What's the best way to use him?  He's my friend, but he'll also have his uses._'

Lex frowned.  Gods- it felt wrong, somehow, to think about using Clark.  Martha and Jonathan and even their son must have gotten to him.  He shook his head.  Friends yes- but even that shouldn't stop him- he was a Luthor.

'_A Luthor, yes.  A Luthor that's expected to jump through hoops_.'  Lex snarled, rubbing his head.  '_And even if I give him Clark's ship- he'll have more hoops for me in a week._'

And that was the problem.  Was giving up Clark's ship, and the Kent's friendship _worth_ pleasing his father?  Probably not.  But was it worth giving up everything he had, this life of luxury- just for a few people's good intentions?

He'd just have to figure out how to use that ship, these few friends he had, to get himself _out_ of this trap his father wanted to set for him.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19 

Lex wanted to groan in utter frustration, but he held back, pasting a look of fashionable boredom on his face instead.  The museum's reception was in full swing, and Metropolis's elite were strutting their finest in the usual style.  Stunning dresses and glittering jewels for the ladies and the elegant classical tux for the men was the uniform for the evening.  And everyone was in uniform.

Well, almost everyone was in uniform.  Lex forced himself not to glance longingly at Clark, the teen was currently holed up in a corner with a few of his Smallville friends that Lex had brought to the event.  They were probably having a lot more fun than he was.  Lana Lang, (a favor to Nell, of course), her boyfriend Whitney (if Lex could have left him behind, he would have), Clark (the whole reason for bringing this group), and the red herring, Chloe.  

Lex smiled mindlessly at the blonde trying to make bedroom eyes at him again, before he scanned the crowd.  Couldn't look too obvious doing this- but it he had to be sure that daddy's cameras caught him.

Ahhh…. Just the man he wanted to see.  He made a half-mumbled feeble excuse to the lady he was talking to, and then casually walked across the room.  Right past the man he wanted to talk to, giving him a small, if friendly smile.  The man suspiciously nodded back.

Damn.  Have to try it again.  Lex walked over to the buffet, took a bite of a chocolate covered strawberry, and casually walked by again.

Again with the casual smile.  Again with the nod in reply.

_Damn, damn, damn!  _Luthor's didn't beg, but he _had_ to get this man in a conversation tonight, and it _had_ to look _almost_ casual-

"Mr. Luthor."  The man suddenly said. 

Lex stopped, turning to say, "Hello, Mr. White."

"Nice party."

"Yes.  The Chinese exhibition is rather unique- it would be a shame not to welcome it to Metropolis in style."  It sounded inane, and Lex knew it.  But he needed to keep the man talking.  And the purpose of this little shin-dig was a perfectly innocent subject.  Lionel Luthor had arranged for an ancient Chinese art exhibition to be brought to the museum- and so there was a reception.  However, Lex guessed that the real reason was a bit less virtuous.

Showing off Jessica, in all her swollen glory.  Lex could almost feel sorry for her- the night was young, and she already looked tired.  Six months along did that to a woman.

He supposed his father was being open about Jessica's condition to make some sort of point.  Otherwise, it didn't really make any sense.

"Yes.  Quite a find, quite a find."  Perry White's eyes raked over the crowd, catching the elder Luthor standing next to his fiancé.  "Your father seems to believe he's found what he's been looking for."

"True."  Lex didn't adding anything else, continuing on with, "congratulations with your promotion.  But I'm sure it wasn't that much of a surprise."

Mr. White smiled.  "Yes, well- I've been working at the Daily Planet for a long time.  When Davidson retired, I knew I had a good shot at it."

Lex snuck a glance at the corner where the Smallville team was hanging out.  Clark was already halfway across the room, Chloe on his arm.  She really had cleaned up well- the teal dress clung nicely to her thin frame- and her lack of glittering diamonds somehow gave her a wholesome look.  Something quite lacking in the rest of the women in this room.

Lex turned back to the man he was talking to.  "Good work always pays off."

"Does it?  I've heard about your restructuring of that plant out in Kansas.  Rumor is, that your dad isn't too happy about it."

Lex frowned.  "I'm not here for an interview."  He wasn't about to get caught up in an interrogation by a seasoned reporter.  He wasn't a fool- his father would kill him, it was breaking the rule: '_never give the media a chance to root around in your business'_.

"Pity.  I'd love to have one.  Could send over someone tomorrow- or anytime you'd like."  Mr. White was rooting pretty hard, even if he had to think that he was facing impossible odds.  It had been years since Lionel had given an interview.

"Lex- having fun?"  It was Clark- and his timing couldn't be better.

Lex smiled, turning to his friend.  "Clark, Chloe- yes I am.  Here, I'd like you to meet someone.  This is Perry White, the new Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Planet.  Mr. White, this is Clark Kent and Chloe Sullivan."  Chloe stuck out her hand, and Mr. White shook it, frowning.  He wouldn't be frowning long.  "Chloe, perhaps you should ask him for some pointers for our nine o'clock tomorrow.  I'm sure he'd love to help out a budding young journalist as yourself."

"Ah…" The man was instantly suspicious.  "Nine o'clock?"

Chloe beamed.  Good girl.  "Yeah.  I'm the editor for the Torch- our school paper.  Lex said I could interview him for a 'lifestyle' piece."

The man actually blinked.  "You have an interview tomorrow morning with Lex Luthor?"  Of course he was surprised, Luthors almost never gave interviews.

Chloe smiled, and Lex noticed it was a little brittle.  '_Damn,_' he thought, '_can't anyone in Smallville act?  She better hold off on that Chloe charm just a little longer._'  

But Chloe held the smile, and said.  "Yeah.  Lex is cool.  I've already got a list of questions- but if you have any ideas?"

Behind Lex, Clark laughed, "We've lost her now, better retreat for the hills."

Lex allowed himself to smirk.  "Of course."  He nodded at them both, "Mr. White, Ms. Sullivan, if you'll excuse us."  He didn't wait for their reply, as he turned away, Clark following.

Mission accomplished.

It now looked like he had dragged his little group from Smallville along just to get Chloe and Perry White together.  At least, that's what everyone would think… even Ms. Sullivan.

The scene from yesterday in the Beanery flashing though Lex's mind as Clark followed him to the restroom…

////

Lana had been there, and her miserable excuse for a boyfriend.  And Clark, and Chloe- it was almost a war meeting, before the battle.

"Chloe, you've picked out what you're going to wear tomorrow?"  Lex asked, blowing carefully on his latte.

"Yeah.  I guess."  A worn textbook was open in front of her, notebook paper crowding the table.

Lex nodded, glancing at Clark.  "Perry White is supposed to be there- the new Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Planet."

Chloe looked up from her homework, suddenly wary.  "Really?"

"Yes.  I was wondering if you'd like an introduction?  If I can arrange it- Luthors aren't well liked by the media."

"You don't say."  Chloe sarcastically said.

Lex just smirked.  "Just act bubbly and excited about our planned interview- he'll probably jump at the chance to 'give you advice'."  Lex smiled at her over his cup, "and if you do it right, he might even want to buy a copy of your article."

The girl was suddenly very thoughtful.  Lex continued, "even if they re-write it, you should at least get some credit- insist upon it."

Ms. Sullivan glared.  "Why are you being so nice about this?  Do you think I'll owe you a favor now?"

Lex laughed.  "If you get published in the Daily Planet when you're fifteen, you _know_ you'll owe me one.  But, seriously, I just want people to get an idea of my side of the story- to find out that I'm not such a bad guy.  To break that 'evil Luthor' stereotype, that I have some dark, evil plan to poison you all."

Even Whitney snickered at that one.  Reassuring to know that his bad reputation was melting like snow in the sun around here.

"But seriously, my dad practically owns the Daily Planet- they wouldn't publish anything bad about me no matter what you wrote.  And I'd like some good publicity."

Clark just shook his head, giving the Luthor an unbelieving smile.  Whitney spoke up, "any instructions for me, Mr. Luthor?"  He somehow sounded snide, without being obvious.

The older man smirked.  "Your instructions are the same as everyone else's: Look like your having a good time."

"That's it?"

"Trust me, it's harder than it sounds."  Lex growled.

////

And it had been hard, pretending like he wasn't anxious, like he wasn't almost sweating with nervousness.  The only thing that had held Lex together these last two hours of this seemingly endless party was Clark's calm.  His friend would have reacted, if the news was bad, wouldn't he?

Doubts remained, though.  Clark hadn't seemed to get how important it was.  To him, a baby was a baby, boy or girl.  It didn't matter to Clark.

But Lex would know soon enough.  After all- Clark's eyes could see through everything, even the walls of Jessica's bulging stomach.  And a six-month old fetus would be obviously male or female.

His hands had been tied with either bribing the doctors or hacking into their computers- but everything would be fine now.

They entered the restroom, and Clark pulled out a pen to write on his hand.  There were cameras and microphones, so Clark couldn't say anything.  He held his hand close to his chest as he wrote, Lex nervously pouring himself some of the complementary mouthwash and swishing it around his teeth before spitting it out.

The young man showed his hand to Lex, and then carefully washed the writing off.  Clark gave him a smile, and then walked out.

Lex looked at the mirror, steeling his features.  It was hard to keep his face straight after Clark's one word message.

Pink 

It wouldn't do to smile.  And gloating was completely out of the question.

Lex suddenly sighed.  It was only a delay.  A year, at best.  Maybe less.

Damn.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20 

Lex leaned back into the seat of his limo, watching his guests with well-hidden amusement.  It was obvious that of the four teens, Whitney had taken the most advantage of the glasses of free champagne available at the reception- he was obviously glassy-eyed and drunk.  Lana wasn't much better, she kept giggling.  

Chloe and Clark were positively sober, Lex remembered seeing a fluted glass in each of their hands at one time or another during the night, but he wasn't even sure they had finished them.

And those two were the most entertaining- Lex sat facing forward, Clark beside him, Chloe across from him.  Lana and Whitney were next to Chloe, and the drunk football player kept making passes at his girlfriend.

"Whitney!"  Lana whispered, slapping his knee, probably unaware how loud she was.  The gentle classical jazz Lex had chosen on the radio didn't cover up the sounds she made.   "Please!"  Whitney's hands had slipped from around her waist to brush her rear, and she was twisting and giggling in response.

Clark's face was a mask of poorly disguised disgust.  And Chloe kept looking between the couple next to her and Clark, obviously torn between disgust and… relief?  Worry?  Lex could easily tell how the girl would love to see Clark loose his rose-tinted glasses for Lana.

Chloe sighed, "Uh… Lex?"

"Yes, Ms. Sullivan?"  Lex smoothly replied.

"Mr. White asked me if I wanted someone to come down to Smallville tomorrow to help with my write-up of our interview."

That was… interesting.  "I assume that he's offered to publish it."

Chloe winced.  "Uh… yeah.  Fifty dollars an inch, with the help- and…" She trailed off.

"And?"  Lex softly prompted, trying not to glare.  What promises had the girl given?  Had she managed to make this evening blow up in his face?

Chloe sighed.  "He said, uh 'If you'll give me exclusive rights and a copy of your recording of the first personal Luthor interview in the last thirty years, I'll get you a summer internship.  As long as you ask some of the tough questions- I don't care if he dodges them, I just want them asked.'  And… well, I said I'd try."

Lex sighed, "which questions?"

"Ah, your thoughts on you're da- father's new wife.  What you think of the impending strikes at the other plants, that sort of thing."

Lex snorted, "and what I think about LuthorCorp's pollution of the environment, etcetera, etcetera-"

"The internship is separate from the recording."  Chloe said, apology in her voice.  "I… don't have to."  She was obviously struggling.  But surprisingly, willing to let it go.  A summer internship- it could mean so much for her career. 

Lex took a deep breath, thinking.  "No… it's alright.  It's fine… "  He could work with it.  In fact, he probably needed to.  


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21 

The VCR tape arched through the air, landing with a 'thwap' on the paper-strewn desk.  Perry looked up at the intrusion, seeing Danko Ranvich standing at the door to his office.  The older man had a computer disk in one hand, the colored plastic square held between chewed nails.  The balding head was pierced by two shinning black eyes.

"Well?"  White asked, looking at the older man.  Ranvich had been at the Planet a lot longer than he had- longer than anyone had.  But he was still a newshound, and Perry knew he could count on him when he gave him a call late last night.  Even if Danko Ranvich would draw out his post-assignment debriefing out into a good storytelling.  Complete with surprise ending, if the old man stayed true to form.

"He played her like a violin."  Danko stepped closer to the desk, rubbing his chin as the door shut behind him.  "No- I take that back.  He and his friend played her, but…"

"Was it worth it?"  Perry asked.  Something, that old news sense, had told him that he should lead that little spit-fire on last night (Twenty years of reading people had seen right through her polite façade.)  He had hoped that it was going to be worth it.

Ranvich was dry.  "Lex Luthor wanted to talk."

Perry settled back in his chair.  "Really."

"That tape is an hour long."

Curious fingers lifted the black plastic from the tape, staring at it with wonder.  "An hour?"  Luthors- or at least, Lionel Luthor- hated the press.  Never wanted them asking questions- no, never _permitted_ them to ask questions.  But for the young heir to be willing to spend an hour of his time talking to a _reporter_?  What was going on?

"Oh yes- lifestyle questions, mostly.  'What do you do on an average day, Mr. Luthor? What charities do you believe in, what causes do you support, what issues do you think are important, what do you want to say to our young people?'  And it's interesting- He's a closet environmentalist, it seems.  It's hard to tell if he's telling the truth or giving the media a sound bite.  'Scientific advances are good for people, Mrs. Sullivan, we've built our society on the use of computers, chemicals, and technology.  The trick is to use our knowledge without exhausting our resources- either by using up those resources, or polluting them so that they are unusable.'  All very gung-ho for LutherCorp International, I'm sure.  But…" Ranvich trailed off.

"Did he say anything about his father's new wife?"  Perry asked.  

"Oh yes.  Completely unusable, I'm afraid.  It doesn't have enough punch to make a good quote, and it isn't very… well.  He just said something along the lines, of 'I don't know Jessica Wellspring that well.  I haven't been able to spend a lot of time getting to know her.  You know that I've been very busy here at the plant- and, quite frankly, I'm a grown man, living in a different state from my father.  I haven't had the opportunity.  Maybe after the wedding.'  It wasn't very concise.  I would guess he doesn't want to be quoted on her."

"Figures."  Perry sighed.  

"But, he absolutely _hates_ his father.  Old man is holding him down."  Perry looked up at Ranvich, nodding at him to continue.  "Girl asked about the strikes- apparently her father works at the plant, and she's heard that strikes at the other LutherCorp Plants are looming.  His eyes almost glowed red.  'There is nothing I can do, Mrs. Sullivan.  I've been placed in a supervisory roll at this plant, not any other locations.'  And… well, that leads to the interesting thing."

Ah, the surprise ending.  Perry knew it was coming.  "Well?"

"They like him.  That whole damn town.  We went to some coffee shop to work on the article, after the first draft.  Took a break- she was a bit bull-headed, wasn't used to anyone editing her work.  Didn't like changing things.  We're sitting there, and some guy comes up.  Older man, works at the plant.  Asks her how that reception went.  Tells me that his son was in that field trip where 'Lex saved those kids from that crazy gunman'.  Remember that?  Last fall?"

"Yes."

"And, well."  Danko paused, collecting his thoughts.  "Young Mr. Luthor came into the coffee shop.  Pulled up in a gray Lamborghini, another man hopped out of the passenger seat.  They came into the coffee shop, ordered two coffees.  Lex and his 'friend' Clark said hello to us and then they sat down.  A table had magically cleared for them, the place was crowded.  People came by to say hello to them, they talked a little, and after awhile, the others left.  The two finished their drinks, Mr. Luthor left a twenty on the table, and they got back in the car and went on their way.  No one bothered them, or glared at Mr. Luthor's back, or murmured hateful comments under their breath.  Not like they would for his father- that man won't go out into the public without a full guard.  Oh, and the young man- he came to the reception, I believe- he drove when they decided to leave.  Lex Luthor tossed him the keys."

"Lex Luthor has a 'friend'?  I find it hard to believe that any Luthor would have a true friend- or do you mean 'close friend', as in…" Perry trailed off suggestively.  

"No.  Just a friend.  Apparently Lex Luthor is a friend of the family.  And if it weren't for the fact that the elder Luthor would be furious about us sniffing around Smallville, I'd suggest sending down a team.  But I really don't think that it's worth it.  At least, not yet."

"Not yet?"

"No.  But sir, I'd keep an eye on that man.  Mr. Lex Luthor, he's up to something.  It would take a lot of effort to make a whole town like a Luthor.  A whole lot of effort.  And Lex is enough of his father's son not to waste that effort."

Perry set the tape down on the table, leaned forward.  "I'll take that under advisement.  Now.  About that article.  How is it?"

"I think you'll be pleased."

////

Lionel Luthor was furious.  His fingers were almost shaking with sheer rage as he carefully drank his scotch.  The Sunday paper's Lifestyle section was spread out before him.  Normally, he didn't read such drivel.  'Lifestyle' sections- or 'Living' sections, depending on whichever the paper called them- were nothing but cute little stories to pacify the masses.

But… his son stared back up at him.  Calmly, not a care in the world.  His dark gray, his purple shirt and gray and purple patterned tie pulled loose at the neck.  One casual hand holding his glass of brandy before him.  Urbane.  Cool, collected, smiling at some joke, and looking for all the world like a _beloved_ prince overlooking his people.  Above his picture ran the caption 'The Royal Heir'.

Lionel scanned the page.  

_…'He's been groomed from birth.'…_

_...'The thing that strikes you the most, is Lex Luthor's almost casual attitude towards his money.  "I'm not some Uncle Scrooge, playing in piles of gold in my vault.  I don't love my money.  Money is a tool, Ms. Sullivan, it's only purpose is to buy you what you really want."'…_

_…'And the billionaire's son sits in the town coffee shop, pouring over plant reports and business proposals.  Shoulder to shoulder with teens doing homework and the younger farmers drinking down a cup of Joe before hitting the fields.  "Smallville grows on you. It's become my hometown."'…_

Lionel snarls, pushing the paper away.  Chloe Sullivan was listed as the author.  Wait- that name… Lionel glares, eyes glaring at the paper.  No one messed with him- especially not employees.  Or their families.

////

Author's Notes:  hah!  I've actually got time to WRITE this weekend!  Check back often.  (Yay me!)

And I know that my chapters are pathetically short- their really just scenes, not chapters.  But I'm publishing as I go along anyway.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22 

Martha was just adding the toasted almonds and butter to the freshly cooked green beans when the phone rang.  She glanced over at the timer, the pork chops had ten minutes left, but the salad was already on the table.  She picked it up.  "Hello."  

Someone was crying on the other side.  "Mrs. Kent," she sobbed- it was a girl, Martha could tell that.  "Is… Clark there?"

"Uh… yes.  Hold on.  Wait, Chloe, is that you?"  Martha said, walking to the back door, portable in her hand.

"Y… y… yes."

"Hold on."  Martha held her hand over the headset.  "CLARK!  IT'S CHLOE!"  She went back to talking into the phone trying to sound as calm as possible.  "Dear, he's coming.  Now, take a big breath what happened?"  She walked to oven, clicking off the stove.  It sounded bad- and if they had to leave, she didn't want the chops burning.

"My d-dad.  He…" She started crying.

"Oh no.  Is he all right?  What happened?"

"He-" Chloe took a deep breath, then, "Lionel Luthor fired him."

The backdoor banged.  "Oh my."  Martha breathed.  "Here's Clark, you tell him, honey."

Martha handed over the phone to her dirty son (What had he been doing, had Lex and Jonathan tackled him again?) and turned the stove back on.  She glanced out the back window, watching Jonathan and Lex toss the football back and forth.  Her boys- it wasn't hard to smile.  She frowned, listening to her son talk into the phone behind her.

"Lionel fired him?  Why?"  Clark was obviously mystified.

"Chloe- calm down.  I don't think he can do that."

"No- I mean, besides the fact that it's illegal-"

"Yes, it does matter.  And besides, the plant is Lex's, Chloe.  Not Lionel's."

"No.  I don't think so.  Just wait a minute-" Clark walked to the back door, throwing it open.  "LEX!"  He walked outside, still talking.  "Chloe…  uh, yeah.  He's here.  No, I think he'll want to know.  Now, just tell him-"

Martha watched in tense silence.  Clark handed the phone over to Lex, who took it.  Glaring at something Clark was telling him.  He began to talk into the phone, obviously becoming more and more upset.  Lex paced when he was angry, apparently.  And his eyes narrowed.  Lex handed the phone back to Clark.  The young man stopped cold, taking a few deep breaths before pulling out his cell phone.  He was talking calmly, softly.  Lex walked, almost casually, back to the house.  Let himself in, closing the door softly behind him.

"Father, you gave me the plant.  To run as I would."

A pause, and Martha checked the chops, deciding to let them brown a little more.  This might take awhile.

"I saw an opportunity.  That article is nothing but one huge positive public relations stunt, and you know it.  LuthorCorp International could always benefit from more good publicity."  

Oh, the article.  Martha looked at today's paper.  She had read the paper- it was quite a nice article.  Lex came off as a little too smooth, a little more arrogant than he really was- but it didn't say anything _nasty_ about him.  Glossed over all of LuthorCorp's bigger sins as well.  And yes, Chloe had written it.  It was so exciting to see the kids doing so well.  Clark had even received credit for the picture he had taken.  And the five hundred dollars for the picture was a nice benefit too.  Lord knew the boy went through enough clothes.  Growing like a weed.  Martha frowned.  Clark better stop growing soon, his height was starting to become noticeable-

"It's perfectly harmless.  I spoke with Ms. Sullivan before-"

"Yes, I knew she was going to ask about _that_.  And I was perfectly honest, and I said all the right things."

"No, I didn't see a final copy of it before press.  But I saw the rough draft that left Smallville, and Ms. Sullivan did send me a message that the content had not been sufficiently changed before press."  The back door swung open again, and Clark stepped in, talking quietly on the phone.  He paused to watch Lex as well.

"Father.  None of this is the point.  The whole point of this conversation is that Mr. Sullivan is an employee of Plant No. 3.  The one you put me in charge of.  And his daughter, our budding reporter, wrote an article under my direction.  Which means-"

Silence.  Martha risked a glance at the young man now sitting casually on the couch.  He looked tired.  Clark whispered something to Chloe on the phone.

"No.  I really don't want to train another plant manager, father.  Besides- Ms. Sullivan and I have an understanding of her obligations to me for that interview.  I don't want to loose that after-"

"Yes.  That's exactly what I mean."  A pause.  "She is a little young- but she'll come to learn."  

"Of course.  But no, I don't think so."

"Please don't.  Neither of us wants to spend the time with _that_."

"Of course.  Thank you father.  Goodbye."

Lex hung up with an air of inevitability.  He slowly rose, walked to Clark.  Held out his hand.  Clark handed over the phone.

"Ms. Sullivan, don't bother packing."  Lex dragged up a little smirk.  "Overheard me?  Well, yes, I did promise him that I had you on a leash, didn't I?"

"Don't worry about it, Chloe.  It won't be anything illegal- no hiding 'evidence' or erasing files or anything like that.  I just want someone in the journalism business I can rely on for friendly interviews.  My father just wanted stronger reassurances.  Don't worry.  We'll both come out of it ahead, Ms. Sullivan."

"Yes, that's all I'll want.  Now, let me talk to your father."

There was a longer pause, and Lex took a deep breath, winking at Clark.  Martha smiled, getting the pork chops and green beans on the table.  "Clark," she said, "Get your father and get cleaned up."

Clark bounced up, and Lex began to speak into the phone.  "No, Mr. Sullivan.  You're not fired.  I spoke with my father.  We had… a misunderstanding.  He wasn't aware that I had interviewed with your daughter with the express knowledge that she was going to be published in the Daily Planet.  My father has a family policy concerning the press and granting interviews with reporters that are not friendly towards LuthorCorp- he wasn't aware that I had given your daughter permission to ask some of the more, ah, _sensitive_ questions.  I've straightened it out-"

"Oh, no problem, no problem at all.  In fact, I should be apologizing to you.  I am sorry for the emotional upheaval…"

"Yes.  Well.  I'll let you get back to your evening with your daughter.  And… I'll see you tomorrow."

Lex hung up.  Sighing.  Looked at Martha.  "You wouldn't have anything to _drink_ in this house, would you?  Something a little stronger than…"

"Just some rum."  At Lex's raised eyebrows, she shrugged.  "For cooking.  Up-side-down cake."

"Ah.  Two fingers, straight up."

"My, my, my Lex.  You're living on the wild side."  Martha joked, reaching into the pantry.

Lex laughed.  

////

"Damn, Lex.  This is getting harder and harder."  Clark said, stepping from behind a tree.

"I know.  I know."  Lex said, leaning against the tree next to him.

"The guy following you sure has gotten persistent lately."

"My father must have thrown a fit about not being informed that I had spoken with Ms. Sullivan.  Actually, I would have done the same thing.  But… how's the team watching your house?"

"Bored.  They must be.  I've watched them play cards in their van while they're supposed to be watching me.  One of them has gotten really good at FreeCell- you know, that computer solitaire game.  They read the paper a lot.  Oh, and one pair of them had sex one night."

Lex snickered.

"And you?"  Clark asked.

The bald man sighed, running a hand over his head.  He checked his nails in the moonlight.  He really needed to get them done again- but he never seemed to have the time.

"I've finished up my draft of that 'special report'.  Need to get a lawyer to look it over first.  I don't know if I can get it done by the wedding- I don't feel real comfortable about just using Mr. Reeves from here in Smallville.  He's not an expert with corporate law, but any of the Metropolis lawyers I could call are too much of an unknown."

Clark sighed.  "I dunno, do you know anybody?  Anybody in the business world who could recommend someone to you?  Oh, don't give me that look.  _Somebody_ with money has got to have some decency.  _Someone's_ got to know a lawyer with integrity."

Lex snickered.  Then stopped.  "Actually… Now that you mention it, I do know someone.  But… he doesn't really like me."  Lex paused, then smiled.  Clark looked a little frightened at the glittering grin Lex gave him.  "Clark- would you like to see Gotham?"

"Uh…"

"Maybe take Lana?"  Lex wiggled his eyebrows at the younger man.

"Uh.  No."  He winced.  "She's… a little.  I dunno."

"Loose?"  The smirk grew on Lex's face.  Yep, the rose tint surrounding Lana was obviously falling away.

"NO.  Well, I mean, she's going out with Whitney, and all.  So it's sorta okay.  But… we were all there, in the limo.  And…"

"She was drunk, Clark."

"Yeah.  And.  I dunno."

"Drunk women can be fun, Clark."  Lex smirked.

"To you maybe.  I just- I want something more."

Lex sighed.  "I understand.  You're a monk, not a normal teen-aged boy, and you've taken a vow."  He looked very serious, but his lips were starting to turn up.  "You're not getting _married_, Clark.  Just having a little fun."

Strong fingers wove through thick black hair.  "I just- I want it to be perfect, you know?  The whole, girlfriend, boyfriend thing?"

"You're an idealistic romantic."

"You're an impossible egomaniac."

////

"Leonard, after your grandfather?"  Jessica said.  "Or maybe Vincent?"

"Lionel.  The second."  The senior Luthor growled, pacing the floor.  "That little prick needs to learn-"

Jessica sighed, sipping her fresh-squeezed orange juice.  Lionel had been in a furious mood ever since he had gotten off the phone with his son.  Good grief, why the boy didn't just toe the line, it was beyond her.  How anyone could purposefully enrage Lionel… It was just courting disaster.

"Of course."  She soothed.  "And… ah…" Damn, she _really_ didn't want to bring this up.  But… what if… they _really_ needed to think about it.  "Ah… Elizabeth?"  She whispered.

"What?"  Lionel looked at her, surprised.  Then recognition flashed across his face.  "It's a boy."

"Is it?"  Jessica asked, raising her eyebrows.  "I thought… you said… you didn't know."

Lionel glared at her.  "It has to be a boy."

She winced.  He didn't know… it just 'had to be a boy'.  This was the worst part of Lionel's arguments with his son.  He was always so resolute afterward about the sex of the baby.  Jessica held up her head, thinking fast.  "Well, we've told everyone that we don't know- so we need a girl's name, just so we have something to tell them.  Everyone keeps asking me at the parties."

"Humpf.  Yes."  Lionel nodded.  "Elizabeth?"

"Lizzy Luthor."  She waved a hand.  "I don't really like it… just… well, it is something."

"No."

"Lena?"

"No.  And it doesn't have to be a name that begins with 'L'.  That tradition is usually reserved for the first-born son."  Lionel ground out.

"Ah.  How about if we think about it?"  Jessica replied.  "I need to get ready for tonight."

"You could stay home."  Lionel replied.  "We could stay home.  You've been tired, and I don't want to deal with any of the mindless drones tonight."

Jessica smiled, looking up at him.  "Yes."  It was better that way- she wasn't blind.  The bigger she got, the less he looked at her, and the more his eyes wandered.  And following him to every party and function was wearing her out.  But she'd be damned if she couldn't at least keep him in line till the wedding.  A scandal she didn't need.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

The British racing green Jaguar XJ6 howled down the road.  Clark used his X-ray vision to scan the night, effortlessly slipping around one lone sedan on this back country road on his way to Gotham.  It was dark- and he was traveling with his lights out.  Actually, traveling with his lights unplugged.  The lights came on automatically, but Clark had removed the fuses to the electrical system that lit the lights- even the light over the license plate.

He was going one hundred and twenty miles an hour, flat out on this pitch-black open road.  Occasionally, the lone porch light of some anonymous farmhouse streaked by as a dim blur.   Clark barely noticed, concentrating on the road instead.  The spears of headlights would sporadically appear, and he'd make the minor adjustments to the steering wheel that guided the car around the other vehicles.  Lex's driving lessons had come into good use.

Even if it seemed like Clark was just barely _crawling_ down this road.  Good grief- he could run faster than this- could run faster than bullets- and this car was _SLOW_ compared to that.  It was easy for him to guide the machine around the odd truck or car, his reaction times were faster than any other creature on the planet.

Right now, Lex was in Metropolis, at the 'Wedding of the Year.'  And Clark wasn't invited.  They had laughed about that- Lionel had actually bothered to tell his son not to invite along 'any of the gold-digging horde from Smallville.  Especially the Kents.'

Clark didn't want go- not really.  The reception at the museum had been uncomfortable enough.  He didn't like to be the center of attention, and several people had openly stared at them with distain.  Clark had heard them whispering about them, the 'who invited thems' loud enough to be heard.  It was bad enough when you couldn't really see them watching.  You could pretend they weren't there then.

So, he was running an errand for Lex.  Performing a favor.  Clark watched the road ahead, and pushed the car up to one-thirty for a few minutes before easing back down.  The engine sounded stressed when he went that fast- and it wouldn't do to blow it up from the strain.  

Clark frowned, built out of steel and fancy alloys; this machine should _never_ be slower than a human.  And Lex still hadn't figured it out yet.  The older man obviously hadn't been back down to check out Clark's spaceship, but how long would that last?  Clark didn't know what to think- it was _possible_ that he was just an engineered human- but he really didn't think so.  It just made more sense to be alien.

Just as it would have made more sense for Clark just to _run_ to Gotham- if it weren't for the watchers tailing his every move.  They were probably throwing a fit right now- trying to figure out where he was.  

Lex had ripped out the tracker on this car himself- right before he had hopped on the helicopter to go to the wedding.  And Clark had driven the car straight over to the farm, parking it right by the back door.  They had eaten out on the yard, a picnic for just the family, before Clark had grabbed the backpack holding the 'special report' and the funds he'd need.

Clark was wearing new clothes.  Clothes he had carefully looked over, checking them for bugs.  They should be clean.

All for what was in that backpack- Clark glanced at it, before training his eyes back on the road.  A backpack that had been bought this afternoon by Clark, and filled by Lex.  And thoroughly scanned.

The plan was simple.  Go to Gotham, and meet up with Bruce Wayne, Lex's fellow alumni from boarding school.  Ask him for a lawyer.  (Not so surprisingly, Lionel Luthor hadn't invited his business archenemy to his wedding) See the lawyer and arrange to have the 'special report' reviewed by sharp legal minds that specialized in corporate law.  And most importantly- Lionel Luthor was a little too busy right now to hear about what Lex was up to until it was all over.

////

Lex frankly inspected the church layout from his seat on the first row.  He was alone up here- and devoutly wishing that he had thought to bring a date.  Or that his father had decided to break with etiquette and let some of his flunkies sit up with him.  He hated feeling like a side-show attraction with everyone whispering about 'wonder what Lex Luthor thinks about his father's new bride?'

He glanced over at the bride's side, seeing that Jessica apparently came from a large family- besides her parents, there looked to be at least five couples and their children that probably were her brothers and sisters and their families.  Jessica must be the youngest daughter- several small children sat twitching in too much lace and satin on the pews.  One poor boy kept trying to slip off his seat and crawl on the floor but his mother had a death-grip on his arm.  Lex frowned; he remembered mother had told him that he had hated wearing a suit at that age.  And was that elderly couple her grandparents?  Jessica was certainly young enough-

Lex slid down the pew to the center aisle, and politely said, "Mr. And Mrs. Wellspring?  You're a little crowded.  Why doesn't some of your family come over here?"

The ones Lex had assumed were Jessica's parents shot him a look, the women smiling.  "Why thank you- I assume you're Alexander Luthor?"  Beside him, one set of children and their parents were already getting up to cross the aisle.

"Call me Lex."  Lex gave them his friendliest smile.  He was on his 'best behavior', after all.

////

"But dad-" Chloe whined, clutching her fork in one hand, half-eaten spaghetti in front of her.  Dinner with her father was usually a much happier time than this.

"No buts.  I'll speak with your aunt, but if they aren't willing to take you in for the summer, there's no _way_ I'm letting a fifteen year old rent an apartment alone in Metropolis."

She had faxed in her application for the summer internship Monday morning after the article had been published- not even waiting to ask her father.  But now- he was proud of her getting the internship- but he didn't want her to go.  Well, not unless she stayed at 'Boring Beth's' for the summer.  "I'll be sixteen then, and it will be really good for my career."  Chloe wheedled.

"Which is why I'm even remotely considering it."  Her father went on.  "And we're also going to check the budget- you'll have to come home at least twice a month.  I don't think I can deal without you that long, Bouncer."

Chloe stilled, blushing.  Her dad's pet name was so embarrassing- even if it was true.  She did bounce when she was excited.

But at least he was thinking about it.  She had had this horrible moment after she sent the application were she had realized that her dad might actually say no.

////

"Where is HE?!?!"  The voice of security operative was in full-blown panic.  It had started out as a normal day.  Clark had done his chores, Ma and Pa Kent had done theirs.  Martha running to the store and Jonathan feeding the cows and everything else a farmer had to do with over 100 head of cattle and acres of corn.

Then Clark went to Lex's, and everything started going downhill.  They couldn't keep an eye on the youngest Kent while he was in Luthor Manor- that was 'off limits' for their group of LutherCorp security operatives.  And then, Clark had come back.  In Lex's Jag.  Just in time for supper- out on the lawn, where Patti had gotten the distinct impression that the Kent family was guarding the car.

A shower, a change of clothes, and Clark was off.  Fast.  The gathering dusk had covered Clark's tracks well, making it hard for them to follow with their distinct orders not to be discovered.  They had lost him in the thickening darkness, and now they had no idea where he had gone.

They had called LuthorCorp, and had been told that they were on their own- but they damn well better have an answer before the wedding was over.  Or their heads would be on the line.  

And that might not be figurative.

////

Authors Notes:  Whew!  Sure felt like I got a bunch of chapters out this last weekend.  Still trying to keep up the pace.  But… thought I'd ask a couple of questions/ make a couple of statements to the crowd:

Anybody have a name suggestion for the girl?  I'm sticking with Lionel the Second (for the boy) for now- even if etiquette would call for him being called 'Junior', I can't see Lionel Sr. putting up with _that_.  Not that it matters.  Not _yet_ anyway.  J

Is anyone having browser problems with my formatting?  I got e-mail to that effect, and it is the first one I've gotten, but now I'm wondering….

I've decided to have this beta'ed before I post it anywhere else.  So I'm going to e-mail some of you who have volunteered and ask you to do a chapter or two.  Is there anyone else out there who'd like to help? 

Besides Levelthree, where else can I post?  And on that note, anyone can archive this story, I just want to know where it is, and I want my name and e-mail address on it.

I figured out why Smallville is the land of the fifteen-year-old freshmen.  It's simple- when the meteors struck, they wiped out the school.  And a lot of the teachers (they were having a conference).  SO, the school year wasn't finished out in Smallville, and everyone was held back a year.  It's the only thing that makes any sense.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24 

Lex opened his eyes, looking out the window at the rising sun.  Clark.  He should be pulling up to Bruce Wayne's residence right now.  Lex sighed.  Security was edgy, and had been ever since he got back late last night.  Lex smirked to himself, snuggling sleepily into the thick blankets.  '_Oh Clark, we can run rings around the world together.  Let alone my father's men._'  He thought, letting his eyes close.

Now, if Bruce would only be helpful…  It had taken a lot to secretly e-mail the man.  He had used the computers at the high school to create a Hotmail account.  Lex had tried to be as careful as possible, coming in casually after school to visit Clark and Chloe as they worked on the paper- and Clark had looked long and hard, not finding any security cameras watching.  Chloe had looked at them strangely, but she was still in an emotional high after getting published in the Daily Planet to give them too much trouble.  

'_No_,' Lex told himself, '_dear dad's security doesn't know what I'm up to.  And neither does dear old dad.  And when he does find out, he should be happy._'  

Lex buried the bitterness on how this was probably the first time his father was going to be truly _happy_ with his actions.

////

Clark realized he was tired when he finally pulled up into the driveway of Bruce Wayne's mansion.  He had stopped outside of Gotham's suburbs and put the fuses back in the car.  Pulled over at a truck stop, had some food and a Mountain Dew- he needed the caffeine.  Caffeine didn't really wake him up, but stopping for the break helped.

The teen stopped the car at the gate, looking around.  Funny, he didn't see a guard.  But they did have a speaker, so he rolled down the window and pushed the red button.  He grinned, even as the voice came through, "Wayne Manor, may I help you?"

"Uh, yeah.  Clark Kent for Bruce Wayne.  Lex sent me, uh, Lex Luthor."  

"Ah, yes.  Please come in."  The iron gate swung wide in front of him, and Clark urged the car forward.  He drove slowly up the long drive, eyeing the silhouetted mansion in the early dawn light.

"What is it with rich guys and gloomy?"  Clark wonders to himself.

////

"If you'll just wait here, Master Bruce will be down in a moment."  The butler is old, and speaks like someone on PBS.  Clark guesses he must be British but doesn't ask.

"Thanks."

"Do you want anything to drink?"  He's polite too- friendlier than Lex's butler, but still very proper.

"No thank you."  And the man leaves.  Clark looks around the sitting room.  There's a big fireplace on one side, it's made of large stones and only a few ashes litter the grate.  Above the mantel is a large gold-framed mirror.  There are windows along one wall, covered by gauzy curtains and framed with thick green drapes.  Old art and armor are displayed on the other walls.  A wide-open double doorway leads off into a hallway, and Clark thinks about taking a peak before settling into the couch.  

He looks around, rubbing his temples with his fingertips- he's not used to spending so much time using his X-ray vision, and Clark can feel the headache building.  Hours in the car- looking through the trees and hills to see the cars ahead was easier in the dark with his special vision, but he's not comfortable with it.  But, well, he needs to check out the room he's in.  Casual glances around, and Clark can pick out the security systems in the room.  It's fully wired for picture and sound, with miniature microphones in several locations, tiny cameras in the light fixture above, and a full-sized security camera behind the mirror.  It must be two-way glass.  There are sensors in the floor and around the windows, and Clark knows from Lex's house that they are probably motion sensors and pressure sensors.  He thinks he recognizes the designs.

Clark takes one slow sweep again, this time looking far away, scanning the entire house.  Surprisingly, there doesn't appear to be any more help in the house beside the old guy.  Perhaps they get weekends off?  There are two people upstairs- one in a shower and the other asleep.  Lex had said that Bruce was a playboy, and not to be surprised if Mr. Wayne had 'female company'.  Clark kept looking, down between his feet, head in his hands.  He hopes he looks like he's nodding off.

Hummmm…  apparently Bruce has a lab, just like Lex.  Well, better than Lex, actually.  It covered over half of what must be the basement to the mansion.  Strange- the basement was huge- in fact larger than the mansion.  A natural cave structure, actually.  Interesting.  And… huh.  That car… the symbols on it… Clark strained, feeling his eyes water.  He could somehow see through things and get the vision of what he was looking at like it was normal vision, in full color, and not outlines like his X-ray vision showed.  But it was hard through all this rock.

Batman.

Clark blinked his eyes, letting them snap back to normal.  Ouch, his head hurt.  Clark rubbed his face furiously, hiding his smile.  Bruce Wayne, playboy extraordinaire, was funding Batman?  Giving the man (the psycho vigilante, from everything Clark had read) a secret base?  

Cool.

"Sir?"  Clark looked up; the butler was standing there.

"Yeah?"

"Master Bruce wanted to know if you'd like to meet in the dinning room for some breakfast?  He hasn't eaten yet."

"Uh, sure.  That sounds great."  Clark reached down, grabbing the backpack.

Clark followed the butler down the gloomy hallway and into the dinning room.  Large windows let in the morning light, revealing the huge wooden table with two place- settings set on each end.  The butler went straight for one side, pulling out the chair.  Clark dropped the bag on the table, and zipping open the top, removed the first piece of paper before zipping it shut.  Clark smiled at the butler, and walking over to the other chair, lay the sheet down and then came back to sit.  

The butler watched, and then asked, "anything to drink with your meal?  Orange juice, perhaps?"

"Sure."

The butler walked over to a sideboard and retrieved the flask.  Pouring, he said, "I'll go find Master Bruce, he said he'd be right down."

"Thanks."

////

"Alfred, who is he?"  Bruce Wayne padded down the hall, thick bathrobe pulled tight around him.

"Clark Kent.  He's a fifteen-year-old farmboy from Smallville, Kansas.  He drove here in one of Lex Luthor's cars, a Jaguar XJ6."

"Drove?  At fifteen?"

"Hardship license.  They're routinely given to children on farms."

"Oh.  And what does Lex Luthor have on him, that he could force him to drive all the way up here in the middle of the night to visit me?"

Alfred sighed.  "I couldn't find anything.  I'll need more time.  But… well, it is _possible_.  He might just be a friend.  He was credited with the photograph used for the article last weekend in the Daily Planet.  It was rumored that Lex Luthor gave the interview as a favor to a friend."

Bruce snorted.  "Lex Luthor doesn't do friends.  His father taught him better than that."  

Alfred winced at the bitterness in Mr. Wayne's tone.  Master Bruce seen the results of Lex's friendships on more than one occasion while away at school.  "It's been years, sir.  Try to keep an open mind."

They entered the dinning room, and Bruce slowed his marching stride.  Sitting at his table was the Clark Kent.  He even looked like a farm kid- he was wearing worn blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and an unbuttoned flannel shirt.  Bruce plastered the smile he wore in public onto his face.  "Mr. Kent, I'd say nice to see you, but it's rather early in the morning."

The kid looked flustered.  "Uh, sorry about that- it's kinda the only time we knew I could get away."

"Oh?  Why?"  He knew why, but it would be interesting to see what the kid said.

The black-haired teen did a fair imitation of a look of disgust.  "Lionel Luthor got married last night."  Then he shrugged.  "Lex didn't want his father knowing I was running up here- at least, not yet."

Strange- that sounded almost truthful.  Bruce wandered over to his seat, and sat down.  Alfred poured him coffee.  "And that leads to the question, why are you here?"

The kid, Clark, gave him a sheepish smile.  "Lex said that I couldn't answer that, unless you signed the form."  He pointed at the white sheet he had placed down near Bruce's chair.  

Bruce leaned over, reading it.  "A standard confidentiality agreement?  Lex Luthor is a little paranoid."  Alfred had gone to the sideboard to get the food, and walked over to serve the guest first.

The farmboy shrugged.  "Yeah, well.  He just doesn't want you telling anyone.  And he said that he hadn't done business with you before- you didn't have 'a working relationship'.  Uh, bacon please."  Alfred finished serving the young teen while Bruce read the brief agreement.  It was fairly standard, just a simple arrangement for Bruce not to discuss, share, or inform anyone that he had spoken about with Lex Luthor's representative.

Alfred walked up to his end of the table.  Bruce held out a hand, and Alfred gave him a pen.  Then he held it up, "make a copy, would you Alfred?"

"Of course, sir."

Bruce sipped his coffee, watching the teen sip at his orange juice.  "So."  He said, "why are you here?"

The kid smiled.  Pulled the backpack he was carrying into his lap, unzipped the top, pulled out a pile of papers, neatly clipped together at the top, and laid it on the table.  "When your butler gets back, you can take a look at this- it will explain everything better than I ever could."

Alfred returned, and gave the copy of the form to Clark, who looked it over before putting it in the backpack.  He handed the stack of papers to him, and Alfred walked them over to Bruce before returning with the food.

Bruce took them, eyes narrowing.  It was a business contract of some kind- did Lex actually think he'd work with a _Luthor_?  He flipped through the pages, coming to the summary.  Read it with quick eyes.  Wait.  He blinked, and started reading it again.  Flipped to the back, checking the spaces for the signatures, checking the names.

He looked up.  Looked at this farmkid with worried eyes.  "Is… Lex Luthor… serious?"

The kid sighed, looking away.  "Lex and his father… have never gotten along.  And… it's gotten worse."

"This is a pretty drastic solution.  And why only twenty-five percent?"  Mr. Wayne asked, curious.

Young Kent laughed.  Then sobered.  "His father won't give him a dime in the Will as soon as Jessica manages to have a boy.  This is better than nothing- and Lex gets his freedom years earlier."

Bruce shot him a look.  "Does he really think his father give him a quarter of LuthorCorp and then leave him alone?  That he can… take his inheritance now, and never look back?"

"The fertilizer plants are less than two weeks from going on strike.  It's a perfect opportunity to unload them.  And Lex knows he can turn them around in no time.  There are some other minor branches of LuthorCorp that he thinks will help him build a profitable independent enterprise.  Lionel will bicker about the personal assets, but Lex doesn't know what he can get till he tries.  So…"

"So?"

"Do you know a good lawyer?  Lex sent me up here for your recommendation.  Someone discrete.  He doesn't trust the family lawyers in Metropolis."

Mr. Wayne grimaced.  "I'm not surprised."  But then he nodded.  "I know someone.  Alfred, will you call Young, Browning, and Weatherford?  Tell them I have new client that needs absolute confidentiality." 

"Yes sir."  Alfred quietly disappeared.

Bruce gave the young kid a long look.  He talked like he knew exactly what was going on with the young Luthor.  "You do know, don't you, that asking for my help in this matter has given me insider information regarding LuthorCorp stock?  That the price of its shares will most likely briefly plummet once this 'family matter' becomes public?"

Clark looked back, and gave the reply that Lex had told him to say.  "Lex said he didn't care."

"Didn't care."  Mr. Wayne mussed.  This would bear thinking about.  Bruce wasn't stupid.  Either Lex Luthor fully intended for Bruce Wayne to swoop in and buy up LuthorCorp stock during the company's downturn, perhaps even threatening Lionel Luthor with a hostile takeover.  Or he intended to frame Bruce for insider trading.  It was hard to tell with Alexander Luthor.

Bruce Wayne looked at the young man at the other end of the table, who was stuffing himself with scrambled eggs and bacon.  Or perhaps Lex Luthor saw the information as a way to pay back this favor.  It had been, after all, years since Bruce had seen the young Luthor.  Perhaps he had changed.  A little.

////

Clark had pulled out of the Wayne Manor early the next morning.  He had spent the day with a bunch of lawyers, watching as they went over Lex's preliminary contract.  They had asked him a lot of questions- questions that he didn't know the answers to.  Questions concerning Lex's written instructions regarding funds and gold in Switzerland, factories in East Asia, and trust funds managed by LuthorCorp for various charities.  It made Clark's head spin.  

Only one thing had made more sense to Clark after it was all over.  He finally knew what Lex meant when he had said, "Clark, after this weekend, you're finally going to know what your father meant when he said that 'Luthors can't be trusted'."  Lex had given him a strange, hopeful look.  "Just try to remember, I'm trying to get away from _him_, okay?"

Clark frowned.  He knew all right.  The lawyers had wanted to know if the gold in Switzerland was tainted- if it was 'Nazi Gold', taken from the Jews in WWII.  And if the factories in East Asia used child labor- it affected their market value.  And the lawyers' disgust at the 'outrageous fees' LuthorCorp was levying against the trust funds for their management.  Apparently, they were making very good money for Lionel Luthor.  There had been other things as well, some 'adult movie' production companies, and even an outright brothel owned in Nevada, where it was legal.

One lawyer had murmured, "Christ, _all_ of his money is dirty.  I mean, it's legal, but…" But another had answered, "Not all.  If you notice, our client has selected most of the more… moral industries."  They had glanced at him, trying to gauge his reaction.  He just smiled.  "Does this mean you have moral objections against collecting your fee?"  They laughed.  Even when he paid them in cash at the end of the day.

"Lex doesn't want a trail."  They were curious, but let it go.  Twenty thousand was a nice down payment for their time.  Even on a Saturday.

He had spent the night at Bruce Wayne's mansion.  Mr. Wayne had offered, and he was too tired to say no.  Clark had called his parents on an untraceable phone to tell them that he would be home late.

Mr. Wayne had looked at him strangely when he had asked, but was able to provide the phone with little trouble.  Clark smiled as he turned the car down the entrance ramp to the freeway.  It wasn't too surprising that Bruce Wayne had access to specialized equipment.  Not with the friends he kept.  It was almost too bad that he hadn't seen Batman.  It would have been fun to talk to someone who went around saving people and stopping criminals.  Clark would like to know how it worked.  Being a superhero might be fun- Clark had certainly been thinking about it.

Clark snickered.  And he had wanted to ask Batman how he talked Mr. Wayne into supporting him.  

////

Author's Notes:

Ped- I didn't think that anyone, even Lex Luthor himself, and especially not a 'friend', would be able to get in to see another multi-millionaire without an appointment.  I was going to explain how Clark got into seeing him this chapter, but you're right- maybe a mention in an earlier chapter would have been more realistic.  Perhaps during the re-write.

Everyone- Lionel Luther is a chauvinistic pig.  He's not going to leave his fortune to a girl.  Sorry, no can do.

Also, Clark's a fifteen-year-old boy.  The idea of secret bases and funding a super-hero would be completely 'cool' to him.  And I tried to make Bruce Wayne come off as the rich playboy that he plays to the public- he doesn't show his dangerous side to strangers, only to those who know who he is (and what he does at night).  But he is a businessman, so he would treat this situation seriously.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25 

Patti rubbed her forehead with one hand, looking over the strewn read-outs lying across the dark table.  Her team was in the security room in Metropolis.  Half of them anyway, her, her husband, and Sam.  And things did not look good.  Clark Kent had been off the farm for almost 48 hours, and they had not been able to determine where he had gone.  He had dropped off the map once outside Smallville, and they hadn't caught sight of him until he was within 50 miles of town, late Sunday night.

"Do you have any idea, any at all?"  The man asking was sitting on a chair, looking at the screens.  He was easily in his late fifties, gray thinning hair almost gone, leaving him bald.  He was a small man, very thin, and effeminate in his mannerisms.  He pulled out a cigarette from an antique silver case, lit it with a snap of a lighter, slender fingers fluttering like birds.  His sharp, bird-like eyes glared at the Smallville Kent team through the smoke.

"No."  Her husband calmly replied.  "We have no idea where he went Friday night.  He changed into new clothes right before he left- we didn't have a tracker installed.  The car was Lex Luthor's, and it took us two hours before anyone at the house would speak with us."  He shook his head.  "They wouldn't give us the whole story- and we received no support."

"And this is an excuse?"  The thin, pale hands smoothed designer clothes, flashing an expensive watch.

Patti laid a warning hand near her husband's on the table.  He couldn't yell.  "Yes."  He ground out.  "You've tied our hands, and then you expect us to be able to perform?  We're not allowed to monitor the boy once he crosses the gates into Luthor grounds.  We don't get any reports from Lex Luthor's teams- they could have mapped this whole trip out in the dinning room, and the other security team wouldn't have bothered to tell us!  And Lex's car- excuse me, Lex Luthor's car- should have been tapped, traced, and monitored every foot of the way- but no one will tell us where he went!"

A brief flutter of fingers, flicking ash in the dark room.  "Actually, they lost him as well."  Their supervisor paused.  "It appears that the young Mr. Luthor removed the tracking device immediately before give the car to the Kent boy.  And, as soon as the young Kent left the Smallville area, he killed the electrical system, turning off the secondary back-up systems.  Coupled with the fact that the odometer was disconnected- they lost him.  And they don't know where he went."

"They lost him?"  Patti incredulously asked, then clamped her mouth shut.

"Indeed.  This whole thing has been a monumental screw-up."  Another deep drag on the thin stick of tobacco.  "And I have to figure out what to do.  Mr. Luthor, our dear boss, will want a full report of his son's activities when he returns from his honeymoon in a week.  And what am I suppose to tell him?  Hum?  That two of the best funded, best trained, and best equipped teams in the country couldn't track one teen-aged boy in a hotrod?"

"I'm sorry sir."

"That won't save you."  A soft sigh.  "That won't save the other team.  And… it won't save me."  A sharp gesture, and their boss was explaining, in a deadly calm voice, "No, you see, not only do I have to assign blame for this horrible mess, I have to answer for it.  After all, nothing ever goes wrong at LuthorCorp."  He paused, "and our perfect record must not be sullied." 

They shivered.  "Of course not, sir."

"Of course."  The man glared, "so, in all our interests, you have two days.  Work with the team at the mansion.  I'm authorizing full disclosure for Lex Luthor's activities for the last two weeks.  And you will find out what little Luthor is up to."

////

"This would be easier," Sam replied as he paged through yet another report on the Kent family farm, trying to find a pattern, "if we could just _ask_ Lex Luthor what is he up to."

The guy from the mansion, one of the operatives assigned to Lex Luthor, laughed.  "As if that would work.  John, what do you think?"

His partner mumbled.  "Last resort, but…"

////

It was dark tonight, and raining.  Lex pulled slowly past the Kent farm, pausing at the mailbox.  A figure in black walked in front of his car, opened the door, and slid into the seat.  Lex grinned at Clark, dripping on his upholstery, pulling the black plastic poncho over his head.  Good thing Lex had brought his SUV.

"Wet tonight."  Clark said.

"Yes."

"Mom made me some hot chocolate.  The farmboy held up the thermos.  "Want some?"

"In a little bit.  Thanks for coming."

"Sure.  Where we going?"  Clark asked.

"Well, since watching the stars is not an option tonight, I'd thought we might just go watch the rain.  I wanted to talk to you about your future.  And…"

"And?"

Lex fiddled with the slip of paper that he had found in his pocket, before handing it over to Clark.  Its message was simple: '_Please stay at your car tonight.  We need to talk.  –John Whetcob._'  The man who had been following him.  The young man frowned, rubbing the back of his smooth head.  Beside him, Clark sat very still, before handing the paper back.

"And…" Lex added, "another business proposition for your father.  His produce still has my cook in raptures.  I was thinking about- ah.  Here.  Let's step out to talk."  They were by the old Jackson farm.  Lionel Luthor had left the old barn still standing, but the fields around planted with LuthorCorp test crops.  Lex and Clark met here sometimes, but rarely stayed close to the old abandoned barn.  Lex didn't like the old wooden structure with its rotting beams.  It wasn't like his father to keep anything like that standing, not when he had the house and the other sheds torn down for cropland.  He didn't like to think of _why_ his father had kept the structure that Jackson had died in.

Clark sighed, dragging the poncho over his head again.  They exited the car, squishy mud beneath their feet.  Lex popped a large umbrella over his head, watching Clark carefully scan the area with that wonderful vision of his.  Clark turned toward him, looking Lex Luthor up and down.  Clark shook his head, frowning as he pointed to the umbrella.  Crap.  It was bugged- and he really wanted to stay dry tonight.

"Clark, let's stand in the barn."  The roof, despite its holes, should keep them dry.  Did you bring a flashlight?"

"Yeah."

It was dusty in here.  Lex shook out the umbrella before closing it and propping it next to the door.  The rain would mask their voices.  Clark was looking around, hopefully checking the place out.  Half the roof was caved in, the timbers a mix of trickling rainwater and dust.  Lex removed his coat, hanging it on a peg.  He walked away from the door, heading for the other wall.

"Your father-" Lex began, "do you think he'd take me up on an offer to market his produce to the up-scale restaurants in Metropolis?  He could charge top-dollar, and with a larger variety of buyers, he'd be more assured of-"

Clark laughed, "You mean to tell me that LuthorCorp wants to start selling _organic_ produce?"

Lex waved a hand, sweeping his flashlight beam around.  "Done some research, some of the other agricultural chemical companies have developed 'all natural' product lines for use on organic farms.  Some organic certifications allow that.  I think that if LuthorCorp wants to develop a more environmentally friendly reputation, we need to follow suit.  It's not exactly a high-profit market, but-"

"Did your father-"

"Not yet."  Lex sighed, "I haven't sent it.  It's not finished, I wanted them to go over my changes."  He gave Clark a small smile.  "But I refuse to think negative thoughts."

Clark smiled back.  "Yeah."  He looked up.  "He's coming."

"Get out your flashlight, Clark.  Look normal.  And just stand behind me.  And agree with anything I say, I may have to fake him out."  Lex replied, watching the headlights sweep the cracks in the barn wall.

"And if he tries to shoot you?"  Clark whispered.

Lex wasn't surprised that Clark asked, stranger things had happened to them.  "Knock him out, I'll deal with it."  Lex couldn't ask Clark to kill him.

They didn't have to wait long, before the older man tripped into the barn, mopping his head and swearing at the weather.  "Damn rain!"

"Indeed."  Lex softly said.  "And what brings you out in it?"

The older man shook his head at Lex.  "You.  You're little stunt last weekend.  Or his."  He gestured at Clark.  "Your father's going to be furious at you."

"Perhaps."  Lex coolly replied.

"Probably."  The man growled.  

"And why do you care?"  Lex asked, looking casual.

John Whetcob glared.  "I'll be honest.  It'll cut down time.  We lost you, we don't know where you went- and if your father doesn't get a full report when he returns, our jobs are on the line, maybe even our lives."

"And this concerns me how?"  Lex's voice was sheer boredom.  Years of social circles filled with jaded supper-rich had given Lex plenty of practice.  Lex absently noticed that Clark didn't flinch or fidget behind him.  Good.

The man sighed.  "Because the next team will probably not put up with everything we've put up with.  You know that your father could order full-time bodyguards to openly watch your every move.  Which would probably cramp your style."

"Are you threatening me?"  Lex was cold.

"No."  The man snapped, and strangely enough, Lex believed him.  "I'm just telling you what will happen.  We… need to know."

"Does your team know you're here?"

"Yes."

Lex nodded.  "Very well.  You can say that I sent Clark to Gotham to visit a legal firm.  I had some questions concerning my legal rights to my inheritance."  

"He won't believe that."

Lex glared.  "Actually, he will.  I _am_ expecting a little sister… or brother soon.  I have every reason to be concerned."

The older man glared.  "That's it?"

"I'll provide you with parts of some of my research that I did before my consultation."

"I don't think-"

"You'll get no more from me."  Lex glared, "It's more than you deserve."

"Sir-"

"Leave."  Lex ground out.  And watched the man turn on one furious heel and stalk out.

////

Lex sat on the balcony of his mansion, overlooking the moonlit fields.  He could see the Kent farm over the gentle hills, the pale splash of the lone light shinning over the yard.  It was faint, barely glowing.  He smiled, glancing at the faint lights shinning in his other neighbor's yards.  Lex forced himself to concentrate on how nice it was to think that they were finally becoming neighbors, not just irate farmers hating the manor's very existence.  Lex sipped at his drink, nibbled on the midnight snack the cook had left for him.  Shivered, and pulled his coat tighter around himself.

Somehow, it was always colder at night.  

Lex snorted to himself in humor at that mundane thought- of course it was colder.  The sun hadn't been warming the ground or the atmosphere for a good six hours, and radiant heat had shed a fair amount of the heat the soil had picked up.  Not to mention- the scientist in him wouldn't shut up.

But the mental babble quieted the worried whispers that kept sneaking into his thoughts.  'What if Bruce Wayne turned right around and told your father?' 'What if Lionel's men figured it out and told him?' 'And who can trust lawyers anyway?'

His Hotmail account had received the final copy of the 'special report' yesterday- and Clark had watched the halls while he had printed it on the Torch's printer.  Clark had joked about paying for the paper, and Lex had only replied, 'I bought the computer, call it fair.'

It made heavy reading, and Lex had poured over every word.  And then signed the bottom, and sent it to Metropolis, straight to his father's desk.

It was out of his hands.  Two weeks of planning, sneaking around, and risking his father's wraith for his chance at freedom.  

His only hope was that his father read it once, maybe twice, and signed the thing without thinking of the long-term consequences.  That he didn't think about how giving Lex his freedom was more of a risk to LuthorCorp's wealth than anything else on the planet.

But his father always did under-estimate him.

////


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 25 

Lionel sat at his office desk, overlooking the skyline of Metropolis.  It was after two in the morning, and there was a single-malt whiskey in his hand.  He sipped it, whispering to himself, "mine, mine, mine- but he wants that one.  And that other one.  Two- can I stand to know that I've lost two?"  

He hummed to himself, an old song from the 'mother country'.  His nanny had taught him it, telling him tales of Luthors riding into battle on great war steeds, always victorious.

Maybe that had been the problem- his wife had insisted on raising Lex herself, the nanny was more for show.  And Lex's nanny hadn't been from the old country, her family hadn't been serving the Luthors for years.

Perhaps a more classical education was in order for the new heir.  _He_ wouldn't be exposed to silly ideas- no playgroups, charity functions, or anything to distract him from the Luthor goal.  No foolish ideals of 'I'm okay, You're okay' or any of that nonsense.

Lionel would get back to the basics with his new son.

He slammed back the last of his drink, fingertips brushing over the contract on his desk.  Little Alex wanted his independence.  He wanted his freedom- away from the sticky tendrils of his father's influence.

Lionel smirked- as if Little Lex could _ever_ be free of him.  Did the bald freak really think that a simple contract would keep Lionel from watching his every move?  And the section on 'no supervision of employees, contract workers, or business partners'? It was a joke.  Lex couldn't even _hope_ to enforce that.  The little boy had no idea how many cameras, microphones, and recording devices watched over him and his friends.  Especially the Kents.  He had even doubled their team after the last fiasco (that must have been to arrange this contract).

And Lionel wouldn't tell him- let's see if little Lex and his hick friends could see through the walls and find _all_ the little toys Lionel had ordered to be installed.

Lionel picked up the contract, thumbing through the pages.  No, that section of the contract was un-enforcable.  And did Lex really think he'd give him the Grossman building?  Not likely.  Lionel picked up a pen, crossing out the building's name and address.  No, how about the Sinclair building?  The asbestos and plaster ceilings made any renovations expensive, and the older building's mechanical and electrical systems were vastly outdated.  

Not to mention that the Sinclair Building was behind Luthor Tower, not in front where Lionel could easily see it everyday.

And… no, he couldn't have the old Oil and Gas Building either.  Perhaps the Office Tower he had recently purchased in Gotham?  LuthorCorp had gotten it half-finished for a steal, and the finish-out had been cheaply done for quick re-sale.  

On paper these two buildings looked to be an equal trade.  Lionel smiled, turning the page.  Poured himself another shot, and laughed.  Oh, he had read this before- but it made him want to chuckle every time.

Alexander Luthor wanted the fertilizer line.  All of them- all five plants, from the four strung out across the mid-west from Ohio to eastern Colorado, and even the largest one in California.  Lex had complained so bitterly about the 'crap factory' and now he wanted to keep it.

It was humorous.  And short-sighted.  Lionel had already bet millions of clandestine dollars on research for the next big breakthrough in agricultural chemicals, and lost.  For all his time and efforts had not been able to discover one marketable product.  Which meant that agri-chemicals remained a business of marginal product improvements.  And unless your product was clearly superior over the others, you'd never gain a monopoly, and never get into large profits.

So if Lex took the line, then he'd never make the kind of money he was used to.  Never be rolling in dough, never be a jet-setter like he was in his youth.  He'd spend his life eking out an existence in the backwoods- no, back-fields- of Kansas.  He'd probably even stay in Smallville.

A fitting end to his big dreams, Lionel thought.  Heck- he'd even throw in the recently purchased Talon in Smallville as a 'going away gift'.  The funds needed to either refurbish or level the building would quickly make the gift be an albatross around Alexander's neck.  He added a note about adding the Talon, and re-stacked the papers.

He fingered the edges, thinking about the other conditions- twenty-five percent of the personnel from LuthorCorp security division. (_Lex actually thought that he give him some of his operatives?!?! Lex would get the janitors and men two days from retirement!!!!_)  A beach house in Greece.  And a floundering division of LuthorCorp Labs- medical technologies, something Alexander had only studied in passing.    Lex probably meant to sell it off for quick cash, despite the boy's un-natural leanings towards all things scientific.  The pages felt heavy under his hand. 

Looked them over again, and dropped them on the fax machine.

It would be interesting to watch Lex squirm, when he realized he would never be free of his father.  Never, ever.

Entertaining to watch him rot in the back end of nowhere, while his replacement was paraded around the world.

And it wouldn't hurt to get rid of him now, because no will would be iron-clad from the best lawyers.  Not unless there was a fully-documented case against one child getting a dime.  Lionel didn't want to leave a messy legal battle over inheritances for his new son, his true heir.

////

Author's Notes:

I hope to get to parts talking about Jessica, the security teams, and some others soon.

And I think that this is believable for Lionel- I mean, normally, Lex getting some fertilizer plants and a broke company would mean that he'd be stuck in a dead-end for the rest of his life.  And Lionel wanted to get rid of Lex.  But I hope y'all caught the foreshadowing.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27 

God, it was miserable.  Jessica rubbed a hand over her swollen abdomen.  Looking herself in the mirror as she dropped her bathrobe.  She was fat, feet swollen and sore, back aching.  She looked swollen and misshapen- she hated going out like this, and that's why she chose to stay in today.  Shopping wasn't any fun when she looked like she was carrying an entire pillow under her shirt.

And her wardrobe had changed.  Shirts, blue-jeans, and tennis shoes- not dresses, hose, and high-heels- and that rankled too.  Would this ever be over?  She had a month to go, and she felt huge.  And unwieldy, and couldn't even walk in high heels anymore.  She'd taken to wearing casual maternity wear, only dressing up when she really had to.  And didn't designers _think_ about the pregnant woman?  None of the clothes she could find even looked the _least_ bit flattering.

So ugly.  So huge.  She felt like she was carrying twins, sometimes.  Kicking, and punching her in the middle of the night.  Pounding on her bladder- it seemed like she couldn't go an hour without going to the bathroom.  Ugh.

Her head hurt.  It always hurt, now.  Stress, the doctor said.  She just needed to relax.

She lowered herself into the warm (not hot, not good for the baby) bath, bubbles surrounding her.  The fresh smell of flowers encircled her- the bathroom was covered in vases filled with blooms.  She breathed deep, sipping at a fresh-squeezed orange juice she had ordered brought up.

God, this was better.

Much better.

The water made her buoyant, took the weight off her back, off her legs.  And at least Lionel wasn't here today.  Headed to Smallville- and happy about it.  Good lord, he had even been _whistling_.

She was afraid to ask what made him so happy.  Sometimes when she asked, he got angry.  Said it wasn't her concern.  

She guessed that those times it was the new French maid.  It had made her furious at first.  Then resigned.  Then glad- he wasn't bothering her anymore.  He had never been tender, never been that gentle, and now- it was just uncomfortable to deal with his demands.

But going to Smallville?  And Lionel was happy about it?  What had Lex Luthor done now?  Two weeks ago, Lionel had received something from the young man- something that had at first sent Lionel into a rage, then laughter, and then deep thought.  Jesscia had left him to it- going to bed in her separate bedroom.  In the morning, he had been in a strangely good mood.

Nothing made sense.

This whole thing had been a trip into the Twilight Zone.  The wedding had been picture perfect, the honeymoon was a relaxing week on the beach (never mind that Lionel spent each morning glued to his phone).  And everybody had been so kind, so friendly towards the new Mrs. Luthor.  But Jessica saw the looks in the servant's eyes, heard the whisperings behind her back.  Her whole world was beautiful, with a husband that smiled at her in public and rich, powerful friends that laughed at her jokes.

But she had the distinct feeling that everything she saw was nothing more than painted glass.  And if she looked too hard or touched anything it would break.

////

It was the first truly hot day of summer.  Not burning hot, or dry, like it would be in August, but truly too warm to be comfortable.  The corn was waist high, and Clark grinned as he looked over the fields.  The van was there- painted a molted brown, hiding behind some trees.  They had to keep it close, because the transmitters on the cameras did not have a long range.

A flash of blue jeans and boots, and Clark was running across the fields.  Super-speed, but the four in the truck were too busy looking at Lex, tracking the young man as he advanced on the van.  Lex walked with purposeful strides with the Porsche sitting in the road behind him.  Yes, the Kent's watchers were watching Lex, not Clark.  But the cameras were still watching Clark.  Recording everything, his every move.

Clark fumed.  He had hated these last months.  It was hard to keep the farm-work done without using his powers.  But cameras were recording his every move.  But soon- there would be no recording.

Lex and Clark had planned this.  The final version of the contract had been delivered today, and Lionel Luthor had already left Metropolis for the signing.  And now- Lex had to move fast, to maneuver Lionel into giving Lex things he wanted.  Without even knowing it.

**WHACK!!!**

Clark slapped the gray blob onto the windshield, the lighted bright red readout counting down.  Clark stepped back, watching as someone poked their head into the front, their eyes growing large as saucers.

Lex began yelling, "GET OUT!  GET OUT, **NOW**!!!"

There was shouting inside, and the van door suddenly slid open, the four men piling out.  Clark began to back-peddle, moving away.  He had told Lex that he didn't want anyone to get hurt- but scaring them was okay.  Lex had agreed.

The van blew-- **WHUMP!!!**  -- Flames engulfing the interior, smoke pouring out the shattered windows.  And the four men threw themselves to the ground.  

Lex walked over, watching the van burn.  "Get up."  He said, voice cold.  Clark smirked- he was playing 'the muscle' here, and Lex just wanted him to glare a lot.  It was easy to be angry at these people, invading his privacy, watching him and his family.  

"I said, get up!"  Lex snapped.  Four men shakily got to their feet.  "Thank you."  Lex was polite.  "Congratulations- you're the first employees of LexCorp.  You've probably heard that my father and I are going separate ways?"  Lex paused, and then growled out, "I don't do 'yes-men'.  You have brains, use them.  Now- you've heard?"

"Yes."  One of the men said.

"Good.  I get twenty-five percent of the employees of the black security divisions.  I've chosen you.  Now- go clear out every last one of the fun little devices that you put on the Kent Farm.  And I mean ALL.  This little exercise will prove your worth to me- don't fail."

They looked at him, blank and confused, and Lex added, "or next time, I won't tell you about the bomb."  He smirked, turned on one heel.  "Clark?"

"Yeah."

"Watch 'em.  And if they don't cooperate-"

"Yeah, yeah.  Dad said he wanted to put a hole in one anyway."  Clark did his best to sound bored.  Not that his father would ever actually shoot one of these men- but dad was angry enough to threaten them.

////

Sam fumed, giving the screwdriver a vicious twist.  How in the heck had that kid come up on them so fast?  He could have sworn that the boy was still in the yard- not a quarter mile down the road.  And damn it all- they were _not_ this sloppy!  Sam flicked the microphone out of the little box behind the wall switch, carefully disconnecting it from the house power.

"You missed the camera in the heating vent."  Clark said, flipping through a magazine.  "No, not that one, the other one."  Behind him, Daniel flinched; Sam sent him a withering look.

How did this kid know where every last device was?  And if he knew, his parents knew, and…

The mother walked in, flicking blond hair over one shoulder.  "Are they done in the kitchen?"

"Yeah.  Lex said he'd be by later, with a second team.  To check their work."

"Well, good.  I can't say I've been happy with all these _things_ in our house."  Mrs. Kent sounded disgusted.  She glared at Sam, hands on her hips.  "And what did Lex say he was going to do with them?"

The kid flipped the page of his magazine, sighing.  "Lex wants to keep them.  I don't know why- they obviously aren't that good, _we_ saw right through them."

Sam gritted his teeth, banging the plastic switch plate back into place.

"Well, he did say he wasn't going to get first pick."  The mother was walking into the kitchen.  "Lemonade?  I'm getting some for your father."

"Yeah, that would be great."

"The _men_," she sounded revolted, "said that they'd be done out there in another hour."  Jonathan had been busy 'overseeing' the removal of all the devices around the yard and the barn.

"Good."

Sam stalked with silent fury over to the heating vent, removed the cover, and began to take out the camera.  The kid cleared his throat.

"You're supposed to but the last one into the bucket."  The kid pointed.  Sam sighed, and walked over to put the microphone into the half-full pail that was brimming with little technological wonders.  That was the drill- remove one, put it into the bucket, take out the next.

"Thanks," the farmkid dryly said, turning back to his Rolling Stone.

"You're welcome," Sam huffed.

////

Lex Luthor pulled up to the manor, killing the car at the front door.  His father was scheduled to arrive within the hour, and he needed to be ready for anything.  So many things could go wrong.

But so much could go right.

////

Author's Notes:

Hey, I should get the next chapter out either today or tomorrow.  Monday night, at the latest.  


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28 

Lex had chosen the largest dinning hall.  The oldest china, the best champagne in the house.  Not his mother's china (which was safely tucked away in a self-storage room in Smallville with a bunch of other things Lex had purloined from the castle.)  Or the best food- the cook had gotten an offer at a restaurant in California, and Lex had let him go with his blessing.  Along with the rest of the kitchen staff.  No one was left.  No, the food was a 'party platter' from Albertsons.  Lionel wasn't going to eat, anyway.

And the servants standing around?  The ones that had chosen to stay- Lex had let any of them find other positions that had wanted to leave.  He gave good recommendations to all of them, even the ones he didn't remember having.  When the household managers from the other rich families in the States had called, Lex had blithely replied, 'general staff reductions.'  Which had started rumors about LuthorCorp money troubles and layoffs.  

LuthorCorp stock prices where strangely weak right now.  Prices hadn't dropped yet, but trading was sluggish.

Lex smiled.  So many factors had been tweaked into manipulating the market.  LuthorCorp prices would be taking a plunge soon.  Because stock prices were based on two things- reality, and what people thought of a company.  And Lex had done his best to quietly sully the LuthorCorp name.

Chloe had obediently dropped a hint to Perry White about the 'impending LuthorCorp reorganization', which had quickly made the business pages as 'unsubstantiated rumors'.

The agrochemical plants, all of them except Lex's Plant III, were going to strike in three days.  The first strike in twenty-five years.  And in two hours, all of them would be LexCorp's plants- and four phone calls would bring them right back into line.  All they wanted was what Lex wanted to give them.  The publicity of Lex bringing looming strikes to a dead stop- with happy, smiling workers would make it look like Lionel was out of touch.

His lawyers in Gotham had professionally kept their mouths' shut about the extent of the LuthorCorp reorganization.  But one enterprising young junior partner hadn't been too reluctant to take a little extra cash to 'accidentally' let it slip that young Lex was taking drastic steps to protect himself from Lionel Luthor's shady dealings.  'Accidentally' let it slip, half drunk at a party, right in front of the head financial planners of Vanguard and Phillip Morris.  Memos about not investing too heavily in LuthorCorp or its subsidiaries probably circulated both offices before 9am the following morning.  And then quietly spread.

Ages old reports had been found about now defunct LuthorCorp chemical plants.  Environmental groups were up in arms, GreenPeace was staging a march in front of LuthorCorp Tower this Monday.  Add the apparent 'dumping' of the agrochemical line, and LuthorCorp looked guilty as sin.

And the clandestine pictures of dear old dad with the maid running first page in the Inquisitor tomorrow, (that reporter had liked earning his keep for once).  And not a month after the wedding, people were bound to talk.  After all, who could trust a man to run a multi-billion dollar company who couldn't control his urges?  

Everything was set to let LuthorCorp take a fall.  Stock would plunge, and Lex just hoped that Bruce Wayne took the bait.  He was the only man Lex knew to have the capitol to try a hostile takeover right now.  The only man he trusted not to fall in with Lionel and his Machiavellian business practices.  Lex wouldn't have the capitol to buy LuthorCorp stock, to try his own takeover.  He didn't want to buy, either.  Not yet.  Not till he could buy it all.

No, he'd just hold onto the shares he had inherited from his mother.  Wait out the coming storm.  Hopefully watch Bruce Wayne buy up a lion's share of what should be dumped on the market.  Then arrange to have Bruce Wayne and he cast their votes on the same side of certain issues.  They might even be able to force a total takeover- if they could come to any sort of an agreement.

One of the remaining servants walked in.  "Your father, Lionel Luthor, sir."  Behind the man, the head of Luthor walked in.  Smiling.  Followed by four other men.  Lex recognized the lawyers.

"Hello father."  Lex picked up the chilled champagne, checked the label, and put it back.  "Has the package arrived?"  He asked the servant.

"Yes sir.  The package and your lawyers are waiting in the other room."

"Bring them in."  Lex said, motioning to the servant to open the bottle.

"What, don't you trust me?"  Lionel asked, smirking as he took the head chair.

"Never trust family."

"Humpf."

It was quick then.  Lex's lawyers came in.  Lionel's lawyers looked over the contract.  They signed two copies- one for Lex, one for Lionel.  The servants poured champagne.  They drank in silence.

Lionel put his glass down.  Looked at Lex with that strange light in his eyes, that smirk on his face that almost looked like a smile.  "Get out of my house."

Lex put his glass down, smirked back.  "Of course."  Picked up his copy, nodded to his lawyers, and walked out.  Took off in his Porsche.  HIS Porsche.  Part of the contract, his three favorite cars.  He had wanted five, but didn't push.  Wanted the aerospace division of LuthorCorp, wasn't going to get it.  Wanted the small appliance manufacturing, or the pharmaceuticals chemical LuthorCorp line.  No, he was lucky to get five agricultural chemical companies, two office buildings, and one medical technologies company.  He bet his father expected him to _sell_ a company that developed and manufactured life support equipment.  Not likely.  Not with Clark's ship.

He had packed this morning.  Thrown everything into several suitcases or sent it into storage in town.  Taken quite a lot actually.  Made no reservations for tonight.  This was to look as spontaneous as possible.  Make his father underestimate him.

It would be hard not to gloat.  But he couldn't afford to, not yet.  Had to wait.  But he could, no _would_ wait, if he had to.

Which was why he hadn't taken anything _too_ valuable from the castle.  Left most of the antiques, hadn't replaced them with cheap knock-offs.

Well, not too many of them.

And not for himself.

It was too bad that he wouldn't get to see his father's expression when he got the receipt for all the priceless antiques that Luthor Manor had donated to the charity auction in Gotham for that center for run-away teens.

////

Author's Notes:

Uh… becs.  Hate to tell you this- but I've always lent myself to the longer fics.  This one's kinda tame.  My longest (finished, co-authored, and trying to get published in a fanzine) is over 600 pages.  Scary, if you think about it.  I also put down, without publishing anywhere, a fic that was comfortably at 50 pages with notes to take it through another 100 because I was busy and I haven't gotten back to it.  Both of these are Star Wars fics.

Ped- Jessica has self-esteem issues right now.  You could dress her up in a royal gown and put a crown on her head and she'd still feel like a frog.  She's got an unfaithful hubby who never loved her, she's pregnant with a kid she never wanted, and she's always based her self-worth on her looks.  She _can't_ be happy right now.

Taynna- Unfortunately, Lionel getting his is a long way off.  Due to the length of this fic, I may skip time, but I'd rather slowly grind Lionel into dust.  I'm actually thinking along the lines of wrapping this up, and then doing a several years down the road sequel.  Still making up my mind.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29 

Young Mr. Luthor slogged through the rain and into the Beanery.  He looked around, realizing that not many of Smallville's citizens were willing to risk the rain to be a little social on this wet Friday night.  He grimaced to himself, feeling a moment's pity for his father's helicopter pilot.  Lionel Luthor never let the weather stand in his way when he wanted to go somewhere- and despite the older man's joy at getting rid of his son, he wouldn't want to celebrate anywhere but Metropolis. 

Lex looked around, and found the booth full of his younger 'friends'.  It was strange, but he really didn't think of anyone but the Kents as his friends- Chloe, Lana, and especially Whitney were still just acquaintances.  They seemed too young to take seriously.  But Clark was a little different than the other teens- maybe that was why Lex saw him differently.  They saw him, and waved.  He smiled and waved back, sauntering over.  

The booth was crowded- despite Chloe, Clark, Lana and her ever-present boyfriend Whitney, Pete was sitting there with a girl on his arm.

"Hello ladies, gentlemen."  Lex calmly said, sitting down.

"Hey Lex."  They replied.  Lex absently noticed that Pete looked a little uneasy at his presence.  It hadn't been hard to notice that the black teen had been avoiding him.  Lex didn't bother to be offended- Lionel Luthor had truly worked Pete's family over.

"Lex!"  Lana said, "What brings you out on a night like tonight?"

"I am currently enjoying the experience of being homeless."  Lex wryly replied.

"Huh?"  Chloe stuttered in the sudden quiet.

"I've been officially disowned.  Thrown out of the house.  Bought off to never bother him again."

"Oh, wow."  Someone said, everyone looked shocked- even Clark was acting like he hadn't known what was happening today.

"What are you going to do now?"

Lex smirked, grabbing a chair from another table.  "My plans currently revolve around getting a room at the Best Western."

Clark was shaking his head, "No need, you can stay at my place- I'm sure my parents won't mind."

"Thanks Clark, I'd like that."  Lex replied.  They had already arranged it- Jonathan and Martha had insisted.  And Lex wouldn't complain- Clark was the best personal security he could get.  Lex didn't trust his father not to try something.

"Reorganization!"  Chloe suddenly said, quickly adding- "you said that LuthorCorp would be undergoing reorganization!"

Lex gave her a patient smile.  "Yes- I would have said more, but my father insisted on a non-disclosure agreement prior to finalization- basically a secrecy pact."

"Who gets the plant?"  That was Pete, he looked thoughtful.  

"Oh yeah," Chloe gushed, obviously worried.

"I told you, I've been bought off- I get the plant."  Lex shrugged.  "And a few other things as well."  He sighed, then smiled.  "But… I think I'd rather celebrate tonight, if you don't mind.  Celebrate my freedom."

They laughed, even Pete chuckled a little at that.

"Oh!"  Chloe leaned forward, eyes wide.  "So, spill.  When did this happen?"

Lex checked his watch.  "About thirty minutes ago."

"No way!"  Chloe's eyes got even bigger.  "Oh, wait- no one knows, right?  But it's public knowledge now, right?"

"Yes."

"Would you mind if I call the Daily Planet?"

Lex laughed.  "Of course.  Go ahead."  Chloe was scrambling for her bag, flipping through her planner, and mumbling about Perry White being at the office late Friday night.  Lex just motioned to the waitress to bring him a café latte.

////

Lex smiled to himself.  He should be able to get his holdings in line in no time at all.  A few phone calls, and as soon as the LexCorp plants knew what was going on, everything would be fine.  He settled himself into the lawn chair in the shade at the Kent's farm.  He was under a large tree, the breeze was blowing, and he had an iced glass of lemonade in his hand.  With his brand-new laptop beside him and his brand-new cell phone in his pocket.  New number- he had to keep one step ahead of his father for at least a few days.  He smiled to himself, watching the faint blur of Clark doing his chores around the barn at super-speed.

"Amazing."  He whispered.

He looked over, and saw that Martha was busy in the garden.  A woman's work was never done, apparently.  She was weeding, and maybe picking dinner too- Lex was pretty sure those were green beans in the basket beside her.  Lex knew that Jonathan was out in the fields somewhere, dealing with some cows.  Something about moving them to another pasture, Lex hadn't quite caught it.  Lex doubted he'd ever know enough about farming to really know what the Kent family did everyday.  His talents lay elsewhere, anyway.

And Lex sat in the yard, under a tree.  He frowned, briefly.  Of course his father hadn't bothered to tell anyone that the agrochemical plants would soon pass to his son- otherwise he wouldn't have to deal with these up coming strikes.  The employees would have been working with him for weeks, saving Lex a lot of trouble.

Lex picked up his phone, dialing the worker's representative in California.

"Holla!"

"Hello, this is Lex.  Lex Luthor.  Is Jose Lopez in?"

"Un momento."  Off the phone, Lex could hear the child yell, "Papa!  Luthor is on the phone!"

He winced a little, hoping that the man didn't think-

"You bastard!  You dare call my home!  You threaten my children, you coward!"

_'Wonderful'_, thought Lex, _'he thinks I'm my father.  Did Lionel send someone to threaten his kids?  Classic technique, daddy dearest.  You are an idiot.'  _He cleared his throat, "Mr. Lopez?"

The ranting continued, "You think I will stand down?!?  I am not el nino, that I-"

Exasperated, Lex broke in, "Mr. Lopez, this is _LEX_ Luthor."

"And-" The man stopped.  "Uh… Lex Luthor?  The son who runs Plant III?"

Lex rubbed his forehead.  "Yes."

"Ah… sorry, senior.  Your father…" The man coughed.

Lex took a deep breath.  "Don't worry about it."  He smirked, and then smiled.  "I called about you calling off your strike."

The man positively bristled over the phone, "Sir, I am sorry, but we can't stand down.  We-"

"Who said anything about standing down?"

"Sir?"  He sounded confused.  Lex was more than willing to enlighten him.

"It's simple really.  My father gave me the entire agricultural chemical line.  I now own, not only Plant III, but one, two, four, and… five.  And… well, it was my idea to give the additional benefits to Plant III workers, what makes you think that I won't give them to you?  I'll need at least a week to implement the 401k changes, a month to get the on-site doctors, and probably three months to select a site and build a daycare, but I was hoping that you'd take my word that the changes will be made and go to work on Monday.  Of course, I can send you something in writing- but it would take a few days to get a legal contract.  Would a memo do?"

"Senor!  Sir!  Of course!  I… yes.  I would like something in writing.  And… I will have to contact everyone."  

"Very well, do you have a fax number?  And I am unable to visit immediately- I have three other plants that I need to deal with- but I'll be there in less than a week."

They exchanged numbers, and soon Lex was able to hang up.  He signed, looking at the phone.  Three more to go- plus the medical company, and his two properties.  Not to mention he still had to call all of his plant managers.  The day suddenly had gotten very long.

////

Author's Notes:

I wasn't sure that the Hispanic accents would upload correctly, so I didn't use them.  I hope no one minds.  And I hope no one is offended that I chose to use a Hispanic man as the leader for the Plant workers in California- I was thinking that it would be realistic, since there is a large Hispanic population in California, and it would bring in a better diversity of characters instead of an all white cast with a token black guy.  (Sorry Pete, but you gotta wonder, since you're the only one.)


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Jessica sobbed.  Her hands twisted around the glossy newsprint, wrinkling the pictures.  She let out a little scream, tearing at the paper.  Pieces fell to the floor.  She was sitting in a hotel, in Metropollis.  Top floor- most expensive suite- and Elizabeth had just left.  The words Elizabeth had said when she had called this morning still echoing in her head.

'Honey… You know that I'd never mean to hurt you… but you need to know. It was in the papers, I didn't know if the staff would tell you.   And… well… I know you haven't been real crazy about Lionel lately - but I know it has to hurt.'

That was an understatement.

"BASTARD!" Jessica screamed to the empty air.  Elizabeth had offered a shoulder to cry on.  Denounced Lionel with her.  Gotten ice cream for her pity-fest.  And made the recommendation to leave for a few days.

_'Tell him the truth.  That you need some space.  Yell at him- but keep it in terms he'll understand.  Talk about publicity, how it looks.  About-'_

_'I knew, Elizabeth.  I mean… I guessed.'  She had whispered._

_Her friend had sighed.  'I know.'_

_'And… he never loved me.  He… just wanted to replace Lex, his son.  I was convenient.  Nothing but a womb… a… uterus.  I mean, what does that say about me- that I'd walk into this with my eyes open, and not care?  That I'd think the money was enough?'_

_'Jessie…'_

'You're right.'  She had said.  'I'll leave for a few days.  Not far- I'll get a hotel room in town.  And if he complains, I'll tell him that it would look right, me being upset.'

She held it together while Elizabeth helped her pack.  Elizabeth helped her write the note.  Jessica didn't even cry while her friend drove her to the hotel.  Had even kept a straight face while she told security to shove it, not to follow her, and leave her alone.  But not five minutes after Elizabeth finally went home, the sobs began.

Elizabeth got up, and seeing her red-puffy face in the mirror, opened the mini-bar, and pulled out a drink.  "Damn bastard," she muttered, viscously twisting the cap. Took a gulp straight out of the tiny bottle.  "Expects me to bend over backwards to provide a heir- to loose my looks, my figure, my… my reputation to provide a family.  But he can't even keep it in his pants long enough to stay out of trouble.  He could have at least been subtle!  Not parading it under my nose, getting caught by a photographer.  Stupid idiot."  She finished the miniature bottle, and picked out another.  Threw the empty in the trash.

"I… just wanted to have fun!  Not this… vitamins and Sprite crap!"  She slapped her stomach.  "And you!  Kicking me all the time!  You're _his_, you little brat!  I… I didn't want you!  I don't want you!"

Jessica started crying again, sobbing her heart out.  She lost track of the number of little bottles she had emptied and thrown in the trash.

////

Lex was exhausted.  His car was almost wavering down the road, headed for his temporary home on the Kent Farm.  He hadn't slept- except on the plane.  He had seen four plants in two days.  Met with workers, management teams, and head managers.  Signed them onto the team; with only one resignation.  That would be a problem to deal with- finding a replacement- but he'd deal with that later.  After he had gotten some sleep.

When he could think straight.

He flipped the radio on and started to laugh.

"Lionel Luthor of LuthorCorp has refused to comment as he and his board barricade themselves away at the top of LuthorCorp Tower while GreenPeace and other organizations are picketing below.  No word on Mrs. Luthor, who had left their apartment yesterday after the scandalous pictures of Lionel Luthor with a mistress hit the newstands.  Lex Luthor, the disowned son, has been busy with several high-profile appearances across the country, reassuring his employees that business will go on- if not improve.  Jake, what do you think of that?"

"I think Lex Luthor got screwed with getting those companies.  The old man is obviously trying to unload all his more troubling holdings- including one rebellious child.  But you have to give the kid credit- he managed to bring a looming strike to a dead standstill in less than twelve hours, and most of his new employees are actually happy they got handed over like so much cattle to a twenty-something rich-kid as part of a family settlement.  You have to wonder about what that says about Lionel Luthor, that they'd rather have an untested punk than him."

"I don't know Jake, Lex Luthor has been handling that plant in Kansas rather well by all accounts."

"Yes, Dave, I'll grant you that.  But the important thing is- if I had LuthorCorp stocks, I'd sell.  Now.  I'm willing to bet that the original company will be held responsible by the courts if anything comes of the recently unearthed environmental reports."

"You don't think the new LexCorp will inherit liability?"

"Not a chance.  The currently abandoned manufacturing plants that are suspected of unreported chemical spills are not part of LexCorp.  They even manufacture entirely different products from entirely different fields of industry.  Rust inhibitors are not related to fertilizers. Lex Luthor is home free on this case." 

"Good point.  In other news…"


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31 

The Kent Farm was crowded tonight.  Jonathan and Martha had retreated to the porch, sitting in the warm early summer night.  The kitchen table was surrounded by high school teens- Clark, Lana, Pete, Chloe, and a teen that Lex didn't recognize (Mark?) were all cramming for their English and History finals.  Even if they didn't have the class at the same time, they still had the same teachers for their standard classes, and one last late night session was in order.

The teens kept sneaking looks into the living room, eyes round at what they were overhearing.  Except Clark.  He had gotten used to Lex talking business a long time ago.

Lex leaned back into the living room couch, slipping on his three hundred dollar shoes.  Slapped his Rolex onto his wrist, slipped his suit jacket on with the diamond cuff links, and tacked down his tie with the matching diamond tiepin.  He was juggling his cell phone with one hand, checking notes with the other.

"I know I can get over ten million for the company- I read the report.  But I'm not selling.  Even bankrupt, it's worth more than that."  A slight pause.  "No- I'm not.  I have plans for it."

Silence, then "Yes.  I'm serious."

Another pause.  "What?  No, I'm not going to answer that.  Yes.  No, no, no.  Wait- I would be willing to let it go.  Yes, I need the capital."  A pause, "Absolutely not!  I'm not going to sell my mother's LuthorCorp shares- the market's all wrong right now.  Perhaps in a few months.  What?  No- I'm not going to the stockholder's meeting."

"What?  No… I gave someone my proxy vote.  No, I don't know what the damn meeting is about- I just signed the card and gave it to him.  Yes.  Can't you guess?  And how much am I paying you because you're the most intelligent-"

Lex chuckled.  "Of course.  And, do you have that contract I requested?  Good.  I'll be in Gotham sometime late tomorrow- I'll call.  Anything else?  No?  Then I'll see you."

He hung up.

"Clark- how much would your parents complain if I got a personal assistant?"

Clark deadpanned, "They'd have to sleep in the barn."

"Damn.  I'd have to pay extra for that."  Lex grabbed his suitcase and headed for the door.  "See you in a week, good luck on your exams."

Lana timidly said, "Lex?"

"Yes, Lana?"

"I heard that you got the Talon."

"Yes.  Dear Dad's going away gift."  He sighed.  "No, I don't know what to do with it- I don't have a lot of cash right now.  At least not anything that I can tie up in that.  Why?"

"I… I'm interested in what you're planning.  My parents met there, and…"

"Ah."  Lex gently interrupted.  "I'll keep that in mind when I can do anything.  But right now, I'm still getting settled."  He rubbed his head, obviously thinking.  "Tell you what, if you can come up with a low-capitol, low-risk solution, I'll give it my personal attention.  I'll need a full write up, with a cost analysis.  Think about it."

With that, he turned to go.  Once outside he paused on the porch.  

"Jonathan, Martha.  I'm off."

Jonathan lifted his beer in a toast to the young man.  "At this rate, you'll be getting free flights from your air miles in no time."

Lex grimaced, looking over the darkened fields.  "I can't wait till I can get my own plane again- it's like riding a Greyhound bus.  All these strange people I've never met who want to talk to you, dress funny, and even smell strange.  I nearly gagged on this one old woman's perfume last time.  And they pack us in like cattle."

Jonathan and Martha laughed.  "Lex," Martha giggled, "you fly first class!"

"I hardly count a mere twelve extra inches of space as 'first class'."  Lex replied.  He looked up.  "But, I still wanted to thank you- for letting me stay here."

"It hasn't been a problem."

"I hope it continues not to be."  Lex replied, and then shrugged, "I didn't think it would be.  After all, _he's_ probably not spared two seconds thought about me in the last week anyway.  Well, except to gloat."

"We'd still let you stay here."  Martha said.

"Thanks."  Lex looked at his car.  "I've got to get going, or I'll miss my flight.  And… well… we need to talk business when I get back.  I have some… ideas I want to discuss."

"Alright, son.  You better get going- it takes a good two hours to get to the airport."

A warm feeling fluttered in Lex's stomach as he smirked.  "Not how I drive."  Jonathan was just being friendly, but it still made Lex feel good to know that he had one family in the world who didn't want to get rid of him.

He grabbed his bag again, and quickly threw it in the passenger side before taking off.  He watched the farm from the rear view mirror, thinking to himself.  '_Father- Lionel hasn't tried anything yet.  And the longer I can stay below his notice, the better.  I've got to get Clark to agree to let me study that ship- it's just too much of a waste to let it sit in a basement.  And I wish I could get Clark away from the farm for the summer- he needs to learn the ropes in the business world.  But Jonathan and Martha will need him at home._'

'_At least I'm getting the contract lined out.  And my Will._'  Lex smirked, knowing his father would find out about that last part eventually- that Lex's 'adopted younger brother' would get it all if anything happened to Lex.

////

Author's Notes:

For those of you who are asking for Jessica's redemption- no promises.  This is a Lex redemption fic, everyone else is up for grabs.

And just for everyone's information- the Sinclair building is actually in Ft. Worth.  It was built during the 1920s and has some really cool art-deco architecture.  I'm currently working on designing a remodel for one of the floors, and it's been really interesting all the hoops we've jumped through to maintain the proper 'look' for the building.  (Nope, I'm not an architect- I'm one of the engineers.)

And as to Lex taking two hours to get to the airport- I'm thinking that he isn't using anything in Smallville, since Metropolis is right there.  And two hours was as good a guess as anything.

Sorry this is so short- but I wasn't going to get to write the next scene till Sat. Morning- I thought I'd post what I have.

Author's Rant:

Oh, yeah.  Like you could see the skyline of Metropolis from Smallville.  Not even on a good day, kiddies.  Not like that.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32 

Jessica quietly let the tears fall, sliding out of the corner of her eyes as she lay on the bed in Lionel Luthor's apartment.  They had come for her.  Lionel hadn't even bothered to come himself to the hotel, he had just sent his security forces to come pick her up in the morning.  They had said that he was worried about the protests- and that she shouldn't be outside LuthorCorp security.  She had gone with them, Lionel's threats to cut off her funds making her realize that her rebellion was futile.  For all her husband's wealth, she was limited in her resources.  

Her stomach cramped again- fake contractions, the doctor had explained.  She would start experiencing them more frequently now.

Maybe she should be happy that Lionel hadn't come.  He had been angry enough with her for not taking her vitamins or eating well while she was gone.  He hadn't known how she had made a serious dent in the mini-bar in the hotel room.  Someone must have chosen not to tell him.

One hand rested on her belly.  "God," she whispered, "let it be a boy.  I can't leave till he has a son.  Please… let it be a boy."

////

"Clark…" they sat on the fence, the youngest man using all his abilities to scan the area around them for eves-droppers.  The older man was using all of his abilities as well, to a different purpose.  Persuading someone to agree to do business with him, his way.  "It would be in writing- and I'd give you my word that I would never use anything we would learn for harm.  Every thing, every last thing would be for products and materials that would help people.  Think of the life-support your ship must have- the medical technology alone could save thousands of lives."

The teen wistfully smiled.  "I know you.  And I'd be able to stop _you_- if it was just you.  But if we let the technologies out- if we make all this _stuff_ that you think we can invent- then how will we control the knowledge?  Won't someone else figure out how to make bombs?  Or weapons?  Or something?"

"We'll be careful."  Lex promised.  "We'll produce stuff that doesn't have military applications.  Clark- _please_.  I'd like to remake my name."  Which was true.  And he could make as much money as a 'good guy', it would just take longer.

The dark haired man sighed.  "Yes, Lex.  I… can't really say no, can I?  And…" He chuckled, "you don't even bother promising me money, do you?"

Lex chuckled back.  "Wouldn't work.  I know you Kents far too well.  What does your dad say- 'If I wanted to make money-'"

"I wouldn't be a farmer."  Clark finished.

"Right.  And, I know that money isn't everything for you- but I want to give you a twenty percent cut of the profits from technologies derived from your ship.  It would only be fair."

"Twenty?!?" Clark gasped in mock indignation, "What happened to fifty-fifty?"

Lex snorted.  "I'm the one risking everything to get this off the ground.  And my two other partners will get the thirty percent."

"Other two partners?"  Clark asked, confused.

Lex sighed.  "Yes.  LexCorp, I may own _all_ of it, but my lawyers have suggested that I incorporate.  To incorporate, a business needs at least three people.  Three people over the age of eighteen, or I would have asked you."

Clark glanced at Lex.  "Who… who did you ask?"

"I'm going to ask your parents."  Lex replied.  "I trust them- and I hope they'll trust me.  And…  well… thirty percent of the profits is nothing to sneeze at."  Profits only- not earnings.  And Lex would be getting a salary for running the company.  One of several million dollars, probably.  But Lex didn't feel guilty- that kind of salary was pretty normal for a large company and the Kents really didn't care for 'the finer things in life'.  Lex had already reasoned to himself that he would be sure that they had everything they wanted, and a little more- it wasn't like they had expensive tastes.

"Oh."  

"I wanted to ask you first."  Lex said.  "Because… the ship is your decision."  Lex left off the fact that he knew Jonathan and Martha would be much more likely to allow him to investigate Clark's ship if Clark was willing.

Clark grinned at Lex.  "You always were trying to teach me business- this is just part of the master plan, isn't it?"

Lex chuckled.  "Yes.  Quite."  He would teach Clark, all right.  And when Clark finally got off this farm- he promised himself that he'd straighten it out, and make everything fair and even.  When they were working side by side.

////

Lionel Luthor carefully placed his hands on the mahogany tabletop in the boardroom, fingering the report in front of him.  Around the table, his ten vice-presidents argued over the importance of the picketing below them.  All of his board members were handpicked.  Lionel Luthor had carefully selected each and every one of them.  They were all immaculately dressed in expensive tailored suits.  They all had rigid grooming habits of neat, short hair, manicured nails, and clean-shaven faces.  They had all graduated from the top schools.  They were all very intelligent, with a preference towards 'cultural' arts such as ballet and classical music.  They were all workaholics; many of them had more than one broken marriage in their background.  Also, they were all white, and all of them came from the American Midwest or The South, and they all had conservative political views.

"It's not a big deal- everyone knows that they are nut-cases.  They're just blowing off steam and they'll be gone in less than a week.  No one will even remember that they were there in a month."  The man speaking was young, for the crowd of men sitting up in the room atop the building; he had brown hair (probably dyed it, but he looked young enough to get away with it), brown eyes, and was wearing a dark gray suit.

"You said that last week, Ravencroft."  

Drummand added, "They're raising public awareness of previous LuthorCorp activities.  That isn't good for public image."

"Oh, and what would you do?  We respond in any way- and it will blow up in our face!  We have to sit tight."

"We've lost two percent of our staff- they were uncomfortable crossing the picket lines."  

"Whimps- we're better off without them."

Lionel spoke softly, "and who leaked the information?"  That was the real problem, someone had told the press about the buried reports.  Someone had ratted out LuthorCorp.

There was silence.  Then, hesitantly, one man spoke.  "Sir, we can't find any proof- only circumstantial evidence.  We don't want to mislead you- especially if someone is trying to implicate him to throw our team off the trail-"

"Who?"

"Uh… Alexander Luthor."

Lionel Luthor was silent, only the rising color of his cheeks giving away his emotions.  

"Sir… we aren't sure.  Someone… someone may be hiding behind him- implicating him in order to cover their tracks…"

Lionel Luthor just glared into space.  "Damn him…" He whispered.

////

Lex sat alone in the Beanery slowly sipping a hazelnut mocha.  The drink was a bit too sweat- but it was good enough.  Each chair at the large table had a neat stack of loose papers and a bound report in front of it.  

Lex checked his watch again- it was ten till ten, the meeting was at ten- it wasn't a surprise that no one was here yet.  He looked over, and Chloe, who was sitting beside Clark for 'a last cup of coffee together with my best friend before I leave on my internship', gave Lex a quick nod.  Clark gave Lex a small smile behind his cup.   Funny that the best security Lex could find would be a fifteen-year-old young man.

The door opened, and Lex looked up to see Smallville's mayor walk in.  He caught Lex's eye, nodded and came straight over.  Balding and fat, he looked slightly ruffled in his business suit.  Lex thought he needed to have his suit cleaned and pressed- it looked a little rumpled.

"Hello, Mr. Lex Luthor."  The man gave Lex a big smile, sticking out his hand.

"Call me Lex, Mayor Raines."  Lex smiled back, forcing himself to shake the offered hand.  He didn't always feel comfortable being so… physical with strangers, but he knew he had to become more open and friendly.  Lex had realized that he came across as cold most of the time.  One more bad habit his father had given him.

"Of course.  I see you're all set up here."  The mayor took a seat, leafing through the hand-outs.

"Yes.  I don't have an office here in Smallville for LexCorp- just out at the plant.  I thought that this would be a little more convenient."

The mayor gave him a sly smile.  "And the refreshments are easier to come by."

"Of course."

Mr. Raines put his papers down, and looked at Lex.  "I'll be honest, I just want to know one thing- you're not closing down the plant, are you?"

Lex smirked, shaking his head.  "No.  Not at all."  Behind him, the door opened again, "In fact," Lex added, glancing at the woman walking in, "I'm expanding."

The mayor sighed in relief.  "Oh good, you had me worried- it would damage Smallville's economy if you closed the plant."

"I know," Lex nodded a greeting at the woman in the pink business suit.  "Superintendent Purivis.  I'm so glad you could make it."

The woman forced a smile, "It may be two days into summer vacation, Mr. Luthor, but I'm still very busy.  I hope this won't take too long?"

"No, not long.  Sit down, have a coffee."  Lex motioned to the waitress, who started taking orders.  Two more men walked in, coming over to shake hands and take their seats.

Lex glanced at his watch.  Glancing up.  Mr. Sullivan came in, walking straight over to his boss.  "Sir."  He nodded, and sat.

"Good."  Lex said, looking over the assembled group.  "We're all here.  I'll be brief.  As some of you may have heard- my father and I had a falling out.  We've… parted ways.  I was given a settlement, and told to never darken his door again."  His audience shifted in their seats, and Lex wondered if they were trying not to laugh.  "Part of that settlement was the fertilizer plant outside of Smallville.  Another part of that settlement was Kaiser-Willcox-Stanford Inc., a small medical technologies company that specializes in designing and manufacturing equipment for the healthcare industry."

"KWS," Lex continued, "is not doing so well- it's practically bankrupt.  It suffers from a undesirable location, and, quite frankly, from a brain-drain from loosing its best researchers because of poor salaries, high cost of living, poor schools, and poor neighborhoods.  It's currently located on the far side of Metopollis, just outside of… well, a very bad neighborhood."

"And I'd like to move it here."  Lex stated.  "Adjacent to my current facility."

"This would create about 250 new jobs directly, bringing in families- not just more production workers, but of researchers, doctors, and others in the scientific community."  Lex nodded at the men from the hospital, "Smallville's hospital would benefit," Lex looked at the mayor, "new jobs would be created," and Lex looked at the school districts superintendent, "and more students would be attending the schools."

Lex looked around the table.  "Any questions?"

"A quick one," Mrs. Purivis injected, "this is probably less than 25 new students- our school district is more than capable of absorbing that many.  Your message said that you had news that would greatly affect my district?"

Lex nodded, "Yes.  While Smallville scores much better than average on the national tests, it lacks equipment and supplies that would tempt parents who have formally sent their children to private schools in Metropollis.  Quite frankly, my researchers are all well-educated, and they want to raise well-educated children.  Don't misunderstand me- your teachers are good, and you don't have the discipline problems that plague other schools- but you're under-funded."

Mrs. Purivis grimaced.  "There isn't more money.  Not unless we raise taxes-"

Lex smiled, and it was not a friendly smile.  "That's where you're wrong."  He picked up the briefcase at his feet, popping it open to pull out a stapled stack of papers.  He dropped it on the table.

"A copy of the original agreement between LuthorCorp and the City of Smallville.  Briefly, it states that the city would not levy property taxes against my father's residence as long as LuthorCorp maintained a working factory in the Smallville area that employed a minimum of one hundred workers."

The Luthor grinned again; the wolf was about to feast on the lambs.  "That property is worth over 200 million- it's surrounded by 100 acres of land, landscaped, and has historical value as well.  And since schools are funded by property taxes- and my father's agreement is no longer valid…"

The mayor and the superintendent reached for the contract as one- "How?"  One of them whispered.

Lex smiled.  "My grandfather was the one to actually make the agreement.  Since it was before computers, I think Lionel Luthor must have forgotten about it."  Arranging to have the only copy Lex knew about 'misfiled' in the LuthorCorp Tower in Metropollis hadn't been easy.  But it was worth it.  After all, it was highly likely that his father had arranged to have the Smallville property tax offices 'forget' to review the agreement for the last ten years, since the exemption could have been revoked because the agreement had reached its minimum time limit.   

Lex turned to the two men from the hospital.  "And I hope that we can work out a deal to allow KWS doctors to work with yours?  It's my understanding that Smallville Hospital has a small, but dedicated research staff.  Developing new technologies takes research as well as field trials.  I was hoping that you would be willing to talk to KWS' development manager?"

By the time the meeting was over, everyone was smiling.

////

Author's Notes:

I don't know when the Luthor castle was moved to Smallville- I hope I didn't guess wrong.  But, if nothing else, my guess agrees with my own timeline.  

And it is common for a company to negotiate for reduced taxes for a set period of time as part of their agreement to set up shop in a community, which LuthorCorp would probably do.  

Mostly, I randomly grabbed the name KWS out of the air- but Kaiser Medical is rather large in parts of the US, so I'm using a little real-life inspiration.

And NO, Lex isn't perfect.  But that's okay, he's still learning.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Sam sighed.  In front of him was a wall full of monitors showing the views from all the security cameras around the plant.  Sam was at the LexCorp Plant in California  "Yank it."  The tech at his feet pulled out a cable- a cable that had been installed through a small, patched hole behind the security equipment.  A cable that ran to a hidden telephone line, that ran out of the plant, to a hidden department in the LuthorCorp building in Metropollis.  

This whole building was monitored by the 'home office'.  Well, it used to be the home office.  Now they were the enemy.  

And Sam hated that- he had never wanted to leave LuthorCorp.  He liked working for the winning side.  But, after their de-bugging of the Kent home, Lionel Luthor had thrown them away.  The old man had said that he didn't want security personnel who weren't loyal to him.

Lex had tricked them, in a way.  If they hadn't have helped him by clearing out the Kent Farm of all survaillence equipment, maybe Lionel would have kept them.

But then again, maybe he wouldn't have.  They _had_ failed with the Kents.  Lionel might have just had them shot.  And now their only hope lay in redeeming themselves in their new employer's eyes.

"Check the rest of the equipment."  Sam told the nameless tech.  He was local security.  You couldn't really trust them- some of them were bound to still be working for LuthorCorp, despite who was making out their current paychecks.  But it was too much work for their small team to handle alone.  They had split up- two teams were combing all the LexCorp Plants, trying to stop the obvious information feeds back to LuthorCorp.

Sam turned back to his partner.

"How we doing?"

"Managed to patch some of the backdoors.  Got a few more- and take a copy back to Alice.  She'll go over the source code for these programs to find what I'm missing."

"Good enough."

////

Lionel ran one hand through his hair, pacing behind his desk at his LuthorCorp office.  He was looking at a stack of papers in his hand, the three men standing nervously in front of his desk watching his every move.  His personal accounting team did not bring good news, and that was never good news for them.

"What?!?!"  Lionel paused, looking over the papers, "A  million?  A year?  I thought we had an agreement with the city of Smallville."

"Uh, yes sir.  We did.  The problem is- that agreement was based upon LuthorCorp owning and operating a factory in the area.  LuthorCorp no longer owns the fertilizer plant in Smallville.  The agreement is no longer valid."

Lionel's eyes narrowed.  "And why wasn't this brought to my attention earlier?"

His personal head accountant looked nervous.  "Uh… we're investigating that.  The… employee that was responsible for searching the records, uh, quit during the picketing.  He… uh… claimed it made him too nervous to come to work, so we let him go.  We're trying to locate him."

"Trying to locate him?"

The man winced.  "He's disappeared."

Lionel growled, "Disappeared?"

"Him, and his family.  No forwarding address, no nothing.  We have a team on it."  He cleared his throat, adding, "but we did find out that Alexander Luthor was the one to inform the Smallville officials."  

"Lex."  He snarled.  The billionaire was furious, but the accountants all breathed a sigh of relief.  They weren't going to get blamed for this one.  Now- if they could just continue to distract the elder Luthor with the manipulations of the younger-

The phone on the desk buzzed.

"Mr. Luthor?  I'm sorry to disturb you sir, but your wife is in labor."

"Thank you."  He shot a look at his accountants.  "We'll continue this later."

////

The CEO and practical owner of LuthorCorp stood in the hospital room, back to the windows.  The vertical blinds let in stripes of light into the otherwise darkened room.  Jessica Luthor was lying on the bed, propped up.  Her baby was in the other room, the nurses had all been dismissed.  

Jessica was crying.  Almost wailing- she had been bitterly upset since the doctor had proudly told her she was the new mother of a healthy baby girl.  The father watched her from the window, while she daubed her eyes with a tissue, not looking at him.

Lionel looked at her, disgusted.  Bitter thoughts flying through his head, '_She's the perfect example of why I could never leave the Luthor Empire to a daughter- women are far too emotional._'  He turned to look out the cracks in the blinds, thinking, '_it's disappointing, but you never show your regrets like_ this.'  He comforted himself, unable and unwilling to comfort his wife.  '_Besides, I told her we would just try again.  It's a setback, nothing more._'  

Jessica was sniffling and sobbing, her breath coming in hitching gasps.  She was obviously forcing herself to be calm.  She was busy explaining to him while her outburst was all his fault, the little ninny.  "And… you didn't tell me- you knew, but didn't tell me."  She wiped at her eyes furiously, smearing what was left of her make-up.  "If you would have told me, I would have reacted better- I'm not some m… machine… that parrots the right answers.  You could have told me that it was a girl!"

Lionel glared at her, but she wasn't looking.  He bit out, "What makes you think that I knew?"

Jessica's head snapped around, her eyes on fire.  "LEX knew!  How could he have known if you hadn't told _HIM_?!!"

Lionel frozen, face blank.  "Did he tell you he knew?"  The little snit had probably only hinted at her that he knew.

"TELL ME?  He's never even spoken to me!"  Lionel glared at the wall- Lex had briefly shaken her hand at the wedding, carefully stepping beside his father for the required family photos for the press.  But…  Jessica ranted, "I thought the little bastard was lying, just making trouble-"

"What did he say?"

"Nothing!"  Jessica hissed- "Last week he sent his gift for the baby!  It was all pink clothes and cute dresses!  Pink baby bottles and baby-dolls!  Even a goddamned baby name book with just girl names- he even marked some of the pages and highlighted them!  And you tell me that you didn't know?  LEX _KNEW_!"

Lionel was frozen- the look of shock on his face an expression that few had ever seen on the billionaire.  Then the man, who had made a worldwide reputation for mowing under any and all opposition, set his jaw and stormed out of his wife's hospital room.

He didn't stop for the startled doctors' questions, barking orders as he pounded on the elevator button.  He didn't listen to his assistants' hurried questions or suggestions his faces set into a frozen mask of fury.

People scurried to Lionel's orders, and Mr. Luthor strode out to his helicopter on the roof.  (Damn the rules that said no non-emergency aircraft could use their landing-pad.  He owned this hospital, didn't he?)

He didn't speak on the ride back to his penthouse apartment, didn't speak as he dismissed his personal assistant and bodyguards after he had entered his home.  

There was nothing in his head but the rage.  No one took advantage of him.  No one bribed his employees.  No one turned traitor on him.  No one got the best of him.  No one.  

He didn't speak as he lifted the oil painting of his father from the wall in his study.  Didn't pause as he opened the safe door.  Didn't hesitate as he riffled through the papers inside to get out the little black book.  His voice was firm and steady as he spoke on the line.

"Hello.  I have a job."

"Yes, I understand that your going rate is five million.  You know that I've worked with you before.  Is it the same procedure for payment?  Good.  I will set up the account."  A pause, and then-

"Lex Luthor."

////

Author's Notes:

Ah… pride so comes before the fall.  But whose fall?  Lex has been rather proud of himself lately, don't you think?


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Jessica dried her eyes, pushed her brown curly hair back from her sweat-streaked face.  Good grief, childbirth was a pain.  Even with the meds.  "Should have brought that up to the bastard, too.  Can't think when I'm all dopey."  She whispered.  Her eyes narrowed.  Lionel had been shocked.  And furious- she had never seen him that angry.

Oh, damn, he _hadn't_ known.  And Lex _had_.  Now what was going to happen?

She shrugged, hitting the nurse-call button.  Business wasn't her business, and Lex was nothing but Lionel's business.  But she needed a shower.  And maybe some more pills.  God- she had only been here twelve hours, and already she was sick of this room; taupe wallpaper with cabbage roses, fake mass-produced art prints on the walls.  And it smelled like cheap air-freshener and chemicals.  She should have asked to have the baby at the apartment.  

A white uniformed woman came in, most likely a nurse by the hat on her head.  She smiled at Jessica, and it was a surprisingly gentle smile.  Not faked.  "Feeling better?"

Jessica took a deep breath.  "Yes.  Still a little woozy- but feeling better.  Did Lionel leave?"

"Ah… sorry ma'am, yes, he did."  The nurse sounded honestly regretful to tell her that Lionel had abandoned her.

She nodded.  "I… know."  She bit her lip, and then with a nearly audible '_Why not?_' decided to play the nurse for sympathy.  Lionel wouldn't give it to her.  "He… he said that he had business."

"Ah, yes.  I'm sure he did."

Jessica shook herself.  "I want to take a shower.  Get cleaned up.  And… and… see my… baby."  She didn't quite fake her shutter.  She whispered, "He wanted a boy."

The nurse gave her a startled look, the clucked her tongue.  "Well, it's all his fault you know."

Jessica looked at her questionably, so the nurse continued, "The father determines the sex of the baby.  The sperm carried the X or Y chromosome, so Mr. Luthor got what he asked for.  And don't worry-"

"We can always try again."  Jessica added.

The nurse gave her a sympathetic gaze.  "Well, yes.  And he'll come around.  Now- I'll go get you some help to clean up, maybe change clothes?" 

"Oh, yes."

The nurse left.  Jessica leaned back, exhausted.  She sighed, only to be interrupted by one of the doctors coming in.  He was one of Lionel's specialists, and Jessica glared at him.  The man had known it was a girl- he could have told her.

He cleared his throat.  "Excuse me ma'am, but we need to fill out the birth certificate.  What's the baby's name?"

Jessica's sweaty eyebrows rose.  "Lionel didn't tell you before he left?"

"Uh, no ma'am."

Jessica thought for a second, realizing that her and Lionel had never completely agreed on a girl's name.  Every time she had brought the subject up, he had gotten into a progressively worse mood till she quit.  He probably didn't even have an idea on what to call… her… even now.  

Well then.

"Catherine Ann Luthor."  She had seriously thought about Elizabeth after her best friend- but Lionel didn't seem to like it.  Almost too common these days anyway.  "Katie Ann."  Jessica smiled.  Lionel had only been lukewarm to the idea of Catherine, but Jessica loved southern double names.  And now she got to pick.

"Thank you, ma'am."

He left, and Jessica breathed a sigh of relief.  She yawned, eyes drifting shut.  Had to wait for the nurse to come back and help her get cleaned up before she napped…

////

Charles Leonard Durnes- 'Leo' to his friends, 'Black Hope' to his clients- cruised down the streets of Smallville in a non-descript white pickup truck.  He was a big man, black hair, mustache, and thick hands stained with gun oil; he tended to wear blue jeans, cowboy boots, and white t-shirts with an old black leather coat.

Right now, Leo was mentally noting everything he saw.

Damn- this was a small town.  Sure, it had a few more people in it than most of the small towns of the Midwest, but everyone here obviously still acted like this town had two thousand people in it, not forty-two thousand.  There were people saying hello to passer-bys on the streets, moms shopping, and kids playing in the playgrounds without parents sitting right beside the equipment keeping guard.  This was _NOT_ the big city.

Small town hits were both easier and harder.  Easier if you could shoot them in their beds, harder because you couldn't always shoot them in the street.  People noticed someone staking out a corner or sitting on a rooftop in this small town.  Sniper fire wasn't going to take Lex Luthor down.

Normally, in a small town he'd just sneak into their house at night, and put his targets 'to sleep' while they were sleeping.  People who lived in small towns had terrible personal security.  But not Lex Luthor.  All the information he had bought that had been hacked out of LuthorCorp security said that getting onto the Kent farm was impossible.  (And there was a notation in the file not to inform Lionel Luthor, and wasn't that interesting?)  And he was well watched and guarded on LexCorp property.  In fact- the only place Lex wasn't under guard was-

The pick-up truck pulled into the open spot in front of the coffee shop.  Leo got out, casually looking around.

"Nice place," he whispered.  Terrible that it was going to experience such tragedy soon.

Leo had stopped pretending that he cared about the average 'innocent' citizen years ago.  He had learned quite well to get his 'missions' done as quickly as possible.  Not to wait around for his target to realize that someone had taken out a contract on his life.  Leo had lost his partner and wife that way- waiting for the perfect hit with no collateral damage.

Nowadays he went in, found the easiest way to get the job done, and did it.  

He walked over to a table, sat down, and watched the waitresses scurry around.  Ordered an espresso, continued to case the joint.

Nice, mostly open floor plan.  He saw an old farmer with a revolver strapped to his hip- he was talking about hunting with his friends.  Damn, Leo would have to lay down covering fire- with Kansas' carrying laws and the small town mentality, who knew who might be packing?  But these were sheep- he'd only have to keep them afraid.  When no one was looking, he went to the bathroom and put a remote monitoring camera amongst the decorations to watch the door.  Sitting in this coffee shop too long would raise too many suspicions.  He'd wait for his target from his hotel room.

When he came back to his table, Leo was smiling.  That newspaper article about Lex hanging out with the 'normal people' had been quite informative.  All in all, this would be easy- Lex Luthor was as good as dead.  

Good thing Leo wasn't afraid to get blood on his boots.

////

The four of them were in the farmhouse, Lex, Martha, and Jonathan sitting in the living room.  Clark was wandering around, looking like he was staring at the walls.  Martha had put her hand in Jonathan's, the two of them side by side on the couch.  Lex sat across from them, a careful spread of papers on the coffee table between them.

The young teen spoke up, "Looks clean.  I'll do a loop around the farm, check if we have any watchers."

"Thank you, Clark."  Lex replied.  He smiled at Martha and Jonathan, eyebrows quirking at the breeze from Clark's super-speed exit.  "You know, I think he _likes_ leaving like that."

The three of them shared a laugh, Martha adding, "It's nice for him to be able to run like that- it was so stressful for him to have to be careful all the time.  And we really needed his help here on the farm, and he couldn't _do_ anything."

Jonathan gave his wife a squeeze before he leaned towards Lex.  "It was stressful on all of us.  Well, Lex- what did you want to talk about?"

"The future of LexCorp.  And most importantly, its future legal status."

"I thought you were doing all right."  Martha said.

"Oh, I am."  Lex frowned, "but surprisingly, that's part of the problem.  How much do you know about corporate law?  About corporations versus partnerships versus company ownership?"

The couple shrugged.  "Enough, we do run our own business."  Martha said.  "That is what a farm is, after all, a business."  She had always done most of the books, she had been the TA in the finance class Jonathan had met her in, after all.

Lex smiled.  "Yes, I noticed.  And I assume you went for the direct ownership model- not a limited liability partnership or incorporated."

"No.  If we incorporated, we'd have to pay taxes on our farm's earnings, and then we'd have to pay taxes on the salaries we paid ourselves.  You know that."

Lex frowned.  "Exactly.  For the limited liability of your farm, direct ownership is the way to go.  You avoid the double-taxation of incorporation.  However, I'm in a different boat.  To put it simply, my father set it up to try and screw me- or at least, reduce my control over my assets.  You see- when my father gave me the Smallville plant, and the other properties, he gave them to me, not to a company.  I don't own stock that represents the plant- I own the plant directly.  And, quite frankly, a fertilizer plant isn't something that I want to share personal liability with."

"So, you're going to incorporate?"  Martha asked.

Lex nodded.  "I can't risk that an employee's injury at the plant will set a mob of greedy lawyers after my personal assets for worker's comp.  My lawyers have told me to set up a privately owned incorporated company to run and operate LexCorp- which means… well, the law requires a minimum of three people to incorporate."

"Three people?"  Jonathan asked, he sounded wry.

"Yes."  Lex knew he looked calm, but inside he was nervous.  He didn't think Martha and Jonathan would say no- but if they did, where else would he go?  And if they got very upset about his plans, what would he do about Clark's ship?  Possession was nine tenths of the law- but… he didn't want to do that to Clark.

Jonathan almost spoke, and then thought better of it.  He was obviously deep in thought, and both Martha and Lex watching him.  The farmer looked up.  "Tell me.  What do you want, what do I get?  Lay it on the table."

Lex took a deep breath.  "For you- twenty percent ownership, which means twenty percent of the profits- to be honest, that won't be much the first few years, LexCorp needs to reinvest all of its earnings back into itself in the beginning."  Lex paused.  "And as for costs…  First I'd like to point out that there aren't a lot of people that I'd trust to share with.  And… second… I've spoken to Clark about it… and he agreed."  He stopped, looked at them both.

Jonathan spoke up.  "His ship.  You want to study it."

Lex nodded.  "I own a medical technologies company.  I don't know what country made that ship- but it's far more advanced than anything in the private sector.  We could make a bundle on new technology for the medical community."  Jonathan was leaning back, closing off, so Lex casually cut in, "and Clark and I have agreed not to produce anything that could have military applications."  He gave the Kents his best grin, "I will admit that I plan on making money off of this- but we'll be helping people too."

"No military?"  Martha asked.

"None."  Lex promised. "It would be in writing."

Jonathan sighed, "I don't know.  No Lex- it's not you.  It's just that… to be honest, I'm worried about security.  No amount of money is worth risking Clark's safety.  And if they link him to the ship… You may find yourself dealing with the government."

Lex shrugged.  "I've thought about that.  Chances are that the United States government is right up there with whoever put Clark in the sky.  I was a little surprised that it was so far beyond the private sector-" Lex paused.  Martha and Jonathan were giving him identical befuddled looks.  "What?"

"Ah, Lex… you think some government… from Earth… made that ship?"

Lex paused.  "Ah… Mr. Kent… you think that some… _alien_ intelligence made that ship?"

Martha quietly said, "How much have you looked at it, Lex?  Really looked?"

"Not long- there wasn't time that night, and I didn't want to risk going back.  And I've been busy."  Lex held up a hand.  "Not that I didn't set up security measures for the area, and gave Clark permission to check up on it himself whenever he wanted to.  He did say that he could see it from the fence."

The Kents looked pensive, "Lex," Jonathan whispered, "it didn't look like it came from Earth to me."

The bald millionaire looked thoughtful, and then shrugged, "Its origin is irrelevant to this-" He pointed at the contract on the table.  "I still need to know if you're interested."  Inside, Lex was squashing his emotions.  He didn't know what to do- laugh at the Kents or believe them and get excited.  Right now, he just had to keep focused on the task.

Jonathan picked up the contract- it was surprisingly thin, just a few pages.  "Lex, could you… ah… take a walk?  I'd like to speak with Martha."

"Sure."  Lex rose.  "I'll see if Clark's up to walking a little slower around the property."  He quietly left, letting the married couple have their family discussion.

Outside, Clark was leaning against the house, watching the stars.

"What do you see up there?"  Lex asked.  Clark had probably been listening- Lex didn't expect anything else.

"Spaces."  Clark replied.  "Even switching between X-ray vision and normal sight, there's a lot of empty space up there."

"Your parents think that you come from up there."  Lex said, calmly.

"Might."  Clark replied.  "I don't know.  I don't have any memories from before.  And… well… I've thought about it.  I could be a designed super-soldier from another government or even from the future.  I could be an alien.  I don't know."

"We'll find out."  Lex promised.  '_We'll find out everything._"  He thought.  '_And my father learn to hate himself for his mistakes_.'  Out loud, Lex added, "I'm still holding out for you not being an alien Clark.  After all, do you know how many holes it would shoot in the Evolution Theory if aliens who looked exactly like humans were living on another planet?  The idea of random chance creating two similar species on separate planets is far too small to even consider it."  Lex didn't add the idea of aliens making Clark look like a human for some dark purpose.  Plenty of time to think about that later.

Clark replied, "Yeah, I guess."  He shifted, standing up.  "Let's go for that walk.  He stepped forward, falling in beside Lex.  "Lex?"

"Yeah?"

"My ship.  I don't think I like the idea of selling it."

Lex's heart sunk.  "Clark-"

Clark held up a hand.  "Oh, don't worry.  I don't mind you taking it apart and figuring stuff out about it.  I mean- you'll share what you learn, right?"

"Ah, of course."  Lex hurried to reassure him.

"But…" Clark was obviously struggling for what to say.  "But… It's mine, you know?  The only thing I have to link me to my biological parents."

Lex nodded.  "Clark, that's easy.  You can retain ownership, but just sell me the rights to examine and study your ship."  He smiled, "We can get that written into the contract quite easily."  Clark's parents would like the idea.  And LexCorp would still own all patents and information his specialists found out.  "Let's talk about something else- how's Chloe?  Her internship started, right?"

////

Single malt whiskey, bitter despite its age.  Lionel watched it glimmer in the candlelight as he tilted back the glass.  He was in his home office, sitting in the antique office chair, feet kicked back on the desk.  Staring at his father's portrait.  "Dad," he whispered, "I think I broke the rules today."

"He made me angry."  Lionel casually said.  "Poking his nose where it didn't belong.  Metaphorically… giving me the finger."  He sighed.  The picture didn't reply.

"I know… that I shouldn't have let him go.  But he's been such a problem.  And… well.  The replacement was on the way.  Why worry?  Why bother keeping him?  But… I let him go, and now he's worse than he ever was.  It's never been good between him and I- you know that.  Not like it was with us.  Well," Lionel added, frowning at the memory, "as good as it was until I married _her_."

He grunted, swinging his feet down, rising up to pace the floor.  "You didn't like her- you never liked her.  I wish I had seen what you saw- she turned out to be so _flawed_.  Always wanting to 'do the right thing', and… hell.  She was a terrible mother."

He paused, looking at his father's portrait.  "She broke him.  I don't know how- she just did.  I never should have let her raise him when he was little.  Somehow she made him weak.  Drugs and women and trouble when he was young- and now… He's a viper.  A turncoat and a traitor.  He learned to be strong, but he hated me for forcing him to grow up.  He's finally what I wanted- but now he's my enemy."

He snorted, dropping the glass to the desk, dragging fingers through his hair.  "I admire his viciousness.  It's beautiful in a way.  I've felt boxed in these last few days…  He's done a good job."  Lionel deprecatingly smiled.  "Learned his lessons well.  I'd almost be willing to take him back-" He glared, eyes cold.  "But I could never trust him again.  And that makes it not worth it."

////

Lex laughed with Clark, pulling into the open spot in front of the Beanery.  "Well, I thought that your parents might join me- but I didn't _know_!"  He turned the key, killing the engine on his silver Porsche.  Damn- it was a Lamborghini night, but Lionel wouldn't let him take _that_ car.  Oh well, he'd buy a new one in a few years.

"Oh, please Lex- you can't tell me you didn't set everything up just right so that it would all fall into place, just like you wanted it!"  Clark laughed back.

Lex shrugged; smile still plastered on his face.  "That just good business, Clark."  He smirked, "And you are taking notes, aren't you?"

Clark chuckled, stepping out of the vehicle.  He tapped the side of his head.  "Up here maybe- but I didn't think you'd want me writing them down.  Unless you want me to make some spare cash writing a book?  The World of Business according to Luthor?  Bet you I could pay for college." 

Lex shook his head at Clark's lame joke, "save us all."  Lex stopped, looking over the top of his car at Clark.  "No, Clark- you can make more money from using what I tell you than by writing about it for other people.  Seriously- I'd never trust anything you read in 'How To' books- after all, what's the saying?  'If you can't do, teach.'"

"No-" Lex continued, "Save what I show you for the business world, not the editors of the world.  In a few years, you'll be out of school and working with me."

Clark smiled, it was faintly wobbly.  "Lex… I'm not sure I'd be a good businessman, no matter how much you show me.  Besides- I'm not sure its what I'm supposed to do, you know?"

"Clark-"

"Lets talk about it later, okay?"  Clark replied turning to go into the Beanery, Lex following, "Hey, hi guys!"  He waved at Lana and Whitney.

The two lovebirds waved back.  Lana motioned for them to come over, and Clark walked over, Lex on his heels.  Whitney snuck his arm around Lana, giving Lex a half-hearted glare at the rich man's amusement at his possessiveness.  "Hello, Lana, Whitney, hanging out?"  Clark spoke up, oblivious.

"Not much else to do in this town on the Thursday night."  Whitney shrugged.  "And you?"

"Celebrating!"  Clark replied.

Lex cut in, "or at least he is."  He smirked, "the Kents drive a hard bargain- you should see the rent I'm paying."

The two teens eyebrows went up, Lana asking, "You're still living at Clark's house?  I thought you would have moved out by now."

Lex shrugged, "I'm having a house built next to the factory- so I can use the same security force.  Save a little cash.  But it won't be ready for another two months."  He gave Whitney another look, changing the topic. "Summer's started, thought you'd be off to Manhattan Kansas right now."

Fordman shrugged.  "Nah, practices don't start for another two weeks.  Snyder- my new coach- sent me my recommended workouts to do until then, but I don't have to show up in Wildcat Land for a bit yet.  That's why we're here- spending some time together while we can."

"Oh," Clark said, suddenly realizing he was interrupting their date, "Uh… then we'd better-"

Lana cut in, "It's all right- pull up a chair.  I've got that idea for the Talon, and I thought that I'd bounce it off you Lex, before I write it up."

Lex nodded, politely sliding into the chair next to Whitney , opposite Lana.  Leaving the chair next to Lana open.  Whitney frowned, Lex ignored him.  Clark sat in the empty chair, motioning to the waitress.

"Well?"  Lex asked Lana, asking the waitress for his usual hazelnut Mocha.

Lana shifted in her seat, motioning with her hands.  "Well, you know how there isn't much to do in this town?  I mean, we've got a movie theater, a coffee-shop, and a bunch of drive-thrus, but that's about it.  Right?"

"Yes, I've noticed that this town is a little dry on weekends, yes."  Lex replied.  '_Dry?_' thought Lex, '_If it wasn't for the crazy stuff that keeps happening- nothing would be happening in this town._'  

"And, I've heard that you're doing to bring in a bunch of researchers and scientists and doctors, right?"

"Yes."

"And those people- older, more sophisticated, richer, are going to miss the entertainments of Metropollis, right?"

"Most likely."  Lex nodded.  It was the truth- Smallville might have significantly less crime than the big city; but you could easily become bored to tears here.  Some of his employees might leave, not wanting to live here.

"So- I even researched it on the web- I was thinking about a real, live theater.   Where they perform plays and classical music.  And, and- I know that Smallville, is well, small- and seems to be too small of a town to support such a theater, but… well, Guthrie Oklahoma isn't very large either, and it has a theater.  And we could book traveling shows as well as have a home crew."

Lana paused, and then plunged on to Lex's thoughtful look.  "And Whitney said that Kansas State has several theaters- most larger college campuses do.  You could have the theater group from Kansas State or Metropollis University come and perform.  And the choir teacher at Smallville High said that the acoustics of the theater were actually quite good- so you could also book symphonies and… well, I don't know about opera.  It might be too small.  But…"

"Well?"  Lana asked.

The waitress deposited their order, Lex pleasantly surprised that they had finally gotten his regular hazelnut Mocha right- not too sweet.  "Sounds good, tell me more."  Lex quirked an eyebrow at her, amused at Whitney's obvious frustration that his date had been interrupted. 

////

Leo grinned at the image that just crossed his monitor.  Show time.  He got up, taking the monitor with him to the truck.  He was already wearing his guns.  Everything was ready- his safe house with garage a bare quarter-mile away.  (The current owners were dead, laid out in the basement).  He'd change, shave his face, remove the blond wig from his head, and take out his contacts there.  He'd switch cars too- no one would recognize him as the 'madman' from tonight.

Of course, the police would quickly figure out that this was an assassination when they found his trail of dead and his abandoned truck.  But he'd be long gone.

////

Whitney was telling a joke, and they were laughing.  Clark looked around again, trying to be casual about it.  Lex wanted to unwind- the teen could tell how his older friend had been nervous about tonight- but Clark was jumpy.  His sweep of the Beanery with X-ray vision had revealed a tiny camera.  It was probably just LuthorCorp trying to keep an eye on Lex- but Clark hated being watched.  He wondered if he could take a quick look around using super-speed.  He had been practicing lately- turning just his head to look around, letting the rest of his body stay still.  He hoped to get good enough at it to scan crowds without anyone ever seeing him move.

"Earth to Clark!"  He turned, and smiled at Lana.  She gave him a devious smile, "looking for someone?  I thought Chloe was in Metropolis?"

"Uh, yeah.  She's living with her aunt and-"

Suddenly, there was a strange noise (_later, when the memories wouldn't go away, he would remember it as the sound of gunfire_), and Clark felt himself go into super-speed.  Turned and saw a bullet, it must be a bullet, trailing slowly through the air- strange trailers following it- straight towards Lex.

Clark didn't even think- he was out of his chair, knocking Lex back past Whitney, and onto the floor.  (_Careful, don't let the back of Lex's head hit the floor at super-speed.  And look up!_)  The bullets- oh God, there was more than one- there were lots of them, and they were spraying out over them, each one lower- towards them-

-and Clark could hear gunfire- not just one gun, but two-

-Somebody was screaming.  Women, girls- Clark could hear them screaming-

-the sound of wet 'thunks', strangely reminding him of dropping large stones into a lake (_And what was that sound?_)-

And, oh God, that noise- that was bullets- little bullets- slapping into flesh- human flesh- and everything always sounded slow at super-speed, and why hadn't he guessed? And there was Whitney- small red blotches, growing red blotches on his chest, leg-  And-

(_GET UP!  STOP THIS!_)

Clark got up, turning.  

One man, by the door- one horrible man- eyes wide, mouth in a wide grin, laughing as he held two guns, one in each hand.  Two large guns, Clark could see the slow flashes of light at the muzzles as each one went off.  One hand waving wildly, the other straight at them- aimed straight at Lex-

(_STOP THIS!_)

And Clark ran, towards the man-

(_AH!_)  The bullets hit him- they weren't going in- bouncing off-  (_Oof!_) each one feeling like a slap- a punch- but harder, and smaller, and somehow tighter- it felt like getting hit by Lex's car, but just there- in his chest-

And- Clark grabbed the table lamp, the one by the door, and-

Swung it- 

Hard-

Fast-

Eyes widening at the last second-

(_NOT SO HARD!  YOU'LL KILL HIM!_) 

Pulled back.

Too late.

The man went down.  Sideways.  Blood on his face.  Clark dropped the broken lamp.  _Looked._  Cracked skull, no heartbeat.

Clark froze.  The world rushed back into normal speed.

Lana- he heard Lana screaming.  People screaming.  He turned.

Lex was getting up.  Shaking himself.  Blinking.

Whitney was falling down, sliding down onto the floor.  Blood on the seat.  Gasping, looking like a fish out of water.

"Oh God."  Clark ran forward.

"Fuck."  That was Lex.

"Call 9-1-1."  Clark said, almost yelling.  Eyes wide.  Lana, still screaming.  

No- she wasn't hurt-

Oh God- others.  Others bleeding.  Falling down.  People whimpering in pain.  Clark looked over, Lex with eyes wide.  "Lex!  Call 9-1-1!"

Lex sprung into action.  Clark tore at Whitney's shirt.  Damn- one of the bullet –oh God- holes was making gurgling noises.  Pink bubbles.

Lex was yelling into his cell phone.  He turned to Clark.  Looked at Whitney.  "Sucking chest wound."  He announced.  "Cover it- stop the air from getting in."  He looked down, fingers plucking at Clark's shirt.  "Cover it with your hands- better seal.  But use your shirt on the other ones."

Clark ripped the fabric off, barely noticing the bullet holes.  Barely noticing anything.  Hands, working so feverishly, so quickly.  Lana helping, with shaking hands.  (_There might be more, look!_)  Clark used super-speed to look around.  God, how could he tell if anything was wrong? Everything was wrong.  Everyone was freaking out.

Lex started yelling at people.  "Quiet!  Start bandaging the wounded!"  He turned back to his phone.  "Damn it, I own doctors- they should be here."  He started dialing, snapping orders at whoever answered.

Sirens sounded in the distance.

Under his hands, Whitney was choking on his own blood.

////

Author's Notes:

This has got to be my longest chapter yet.

Yeah, I know that Whitney lost his scholarship in the show- I'm thinking that Lex had something to do with it.  That, and his father had gotten sick and he had to work, which hurt his football skills.  But here, Whitney is free to keep practicing.

(But I still managed to shoot a big hole in Whit's football plans, didn't I?  Ouch, bad pun.  Hummm…hope he makes it through surgery and all.  Hate to have our shallow little jock _die_ on us. Votes anyone?)

Oh, and Lionel's comments?  How else did you think he'd interpret Lex's actions?  Think Lex was being a boyscout?

MitchPell- Jessica only commits suicide if you can kill yourself with angst.  Sorry.  But she does have her part to play.

PepperjackCandy- uh… I was trying to put off naming the baby as long as possible, both for plot reasons and because-  Did you know how much of a pain it is to come up with baby names?  I suck at it.  But I did want it to look slightly spur-of-the-moment, so I didn't want it to 'match' too well.

Ped- Well, Lionel wasn't really thinking, was he?  But- just to drop a major spoiler, Hamlet is my favorite Shakespearean play.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Clark stared at his hands.  He was at the hospital, in the waiting room.  His hands were bloody, dried streaks of red rust not letting him forget what had happened.  The memories wouldn't stop.  He could still smell the spilt coffee and the blood-

It took forever for the ambulances to arrive.  It was typical irony that the cops got there first, then the first ambulance, but two fire trucks made it before the second white medical vehicle arrived.

Clark's hands were red before anyone got there.  His shirt a bloody mess, wrapped around Whitney's leg.  He remembered little things- how the blood was deep red coming from Whitney's leg, but bright cherry red on his chest.  He had noticed neither color matched Lana's nails.  How his chest hurt- it hurt to breathe.  How Lex had gone around, giving orders, giving everyone something to do.  Keeping them busy.

Clark sat in the hospital's plastic chair, absently wiping the rusty red from his fingers. 

Beside him Lex sighed.  "We can't go anything more here, Clark.  I- Let's go home."

He gulped, stuttering out, "Whitney's still in surgery."

He turned, noticing that Lex was giving him an odd look.  "Whitney's in Metropolis, they flew him in the helicopter, remember?  Nell's driving Lana there.  We don't know anyone who is in surgery here in Smallville, and your parents have left ten messages on my cell phone- they keep wanting to come here, but it's not a good idea.  Let's go home."

Clark looked at Lex, and then turned his head.  Squinted his eyes at the wall, focused- "No, it's Whitney.  They're still working on his chest though."

Beside him Lex rose, yanking on Clark's shirt- the fresh one, the one he had left in Lex's trunk.  Lex had taken one look at him and insisted he put it on. "Come on, we're going home."

"But-"

Lex cleared his throat, leaning close, whispered harshly.  "The surgery suites are behind you.  Metropolis IS in that direction- and if you're actually seeing Whitney from here, in Smallville, you can see him from the farm.  Let's go."

Dumbly, Clark nodded, rising to his feet.  They walked toward the door together, only to be stopped by a policeman.

"I wouldn't go out there, Mr. Luthor.  The press has arrived by the vanload from Metropolis."

"Damn," Lex swore under his breath.  "I'm still parked out there- is there any way we can get to my car?"

The man shook his head, "No.  But… look- they're rotating me to a new post in a few- and I could give you a lift.  Would that work?"

"Yes."

The cop nodded, "Great.  Hey- you did give your statement to the detectives, right?"

Clark flinched.  Lex tensed, replying, "No, not yet.  It was… busy.  Could we do it tomorrow?"

"Ah… dunno, I'll ask."

////

They had roped off the whole block- wouldn't let the press anywhere close to the scene.  Sarge had already thrown the Ledger photographer out, with a gruff, "Sorry, Nate, but if I let you in, I have to let in the whole herd of blood-sucking leaches."  The other reporters, photographers, cameramen and television news reporters were already starting to show up.  Every cop in town had been called in, and half of them were just keeping the press back from the scene and out of the hospital.  They were even using the city's fire trucks as barriers at the end of each street.

Smallville's head police officer was furious.  This was a quiet little town- things like this weren't supposed to happen here.  Smallville was a lazy little town, without the violence or crime rate of Metropolis.  That was the big reason he had quit the force there to move out here.  The crime wasn't supposed to follow him like this.

His tired hands ran through his steel gray hair as he looked around.  He had set up 'headquarters' in the street outside the Beanery, a few folding tables had been set up, each with its pile of neatly bagged, labeled, and stacked pieces of evidence.  Surrounding him, detectives and cops were carefully reporting and cataloging their finds.  Other detectives and officers were carefully digging through the mess inside, but Sarge was busy directing efforts to keep the newshounds and curious locals away.  The victims and the bystanders had all been removed hours ago- many to visit the hospital to have their injuries treated, others to give their statements at the station.

There was a small commotion, and on of the cops on guard duty came up.  Sarge growled,  "Please tell me that you haven't had to arrest one of the press.  Don't they know that we've got better things to do than keep some professional thrill seeker from contaminating the crime scene or the witnesses?"

"No sir.  It's just that… detective Smith has been searching the vehicle that we've assumed to belong to the shooter.  We've… found something."

"Humpf.  What?"

"A miniature TV set- detective Smith said it was a 'monitor', like on a computer."

"So?"

"Smith turned it on- the picture- it's running a live action scene of inside the Beanery."  The young man pointed, "Somewhere in there is a camera, to watch what's going on.  Smith… he said it was pretty high-tech."

Sarge had a sinking feeling.

////

It was still dark, the moon high in the sky.  Clark watched, head tilted against the glass, eyes glazed, as the police car pulled up to the house.  Lex opened the door, turning to Clark.

"You all right?"  His friend's words were soft.

"Fine."

"I think."  Lex swallowed, somehow nervous, "We need to get some sleep.  I'm exhausted."

Clark nodded, remembering Lex making quite a few phone calls- organizing all the mayhem that had gone on during the night.  Doctors had shown up from his company in Metropolis, and Lex had somehow been involved in contacting several of the families about their children who had been at the Beanery.  "Yeah."  Clark whispered, getting out.

The cop- Clark couldn't remember his name- cleared his throat.   "We'll send someone by for your statements soon, okay?  Just don't talk to the press… and get some sleep."

"Sure thing."  Lex said, shutting the police car's door behind the retreating Clark.  The young teen barely noticed Lex, didn't notice the car pull away.

The back screen door burst open, and mom was running out.  Dad behind her.  "Clark!  Oh Clark!"  She practically sobbed, throwing herself at her son.  "Oh my baby…" She enveloped him in a hug, and then Martha turned to Lex, "Lex…" She held out an arm, pulling the weary man in.  Behind her, Jonathan came up, joining in.  Martha tightened her grip around them, obviously blinking back tears.  "I was so worried-"  

Clark whimpered, his chest and arm _hurt_-  "Yeah," he gasped, "mom."

Lex said, "Come on, let's go inside."  He sounded gruff.

Clark whimpered again, his mom's hand gripping his arm.  "Lex?"  She asked, looking at Clark.

The teen could hear Lex sigh.  "Come on… he's… bruised.  It's nothing serious."  Then he laughed, short and bitter.

"Bruised?"  Mom and Dad were confused, but Lex hustled them all inside.

Once in the kitchen, Lex gently asked Clark to take off his shirt.  He did, and his mom and dad gasped.  Clark looked down in confusion, noticing the purple blotches for the first time.  He cocked his head, curiously poking at one reddish-purple mark and wincing at the pain.

Lex sighed.  Watching him, ignoring the wondering looks of his parents, as Clark traced fingers over the marks.  Clark looked up.  "They hurt."  He knew he sounded surprised.

"Oh baby," mom cooed, while dad just blinked.  "What happened?"

"He got shot."  Lex replied.  "The… gunman… had a machine gun.  And… apparently Clark is bullet-proof."

"Oh my."  Mom breathed.

"They're everywhere," Dad said, "what did he do, aim at you?"

Clark winced.  "I… didn't mean it."

Lex reached out, squeezing an un-bruised section of his arm.  "Clark, why don't you go to bed?  Okay?  I'll… talk to your folks."

He nodded dumbly, and walked off to his bedroom.

////

Lex watched Clark go, shaking his head.  He pulled out a chair, sitting down at the kitchen table.  "Martha, Jonathan.  Please sit- I think you need to know what happened."  They did, and Lex continued.  "Clark stopped the gunman."  He paused, and then elaborated, "permanently." 

The Kent's eyes were two copies of surprise.  Lex began, "He came in, started shooting- holding two machine guns.  Clark pushed me down, and then jumped up- at least I think he did, he was moving too fast to see- and hit the man in the head with a lamp.  The gunman went down like a… sack of potatoes.  Never got up again.  I think it was instantaneous- Clark must have crushed his skull.  The men from the hospital simply took his vitals and… bagged him."

"Clark… killed someone?"  Martha said.

Jonathan just shook his head in denial.

Lex continued.  "It was an accident… I know that the man got off quite a few rounds before Clark could stop him."  He paused, and then added, "Clark didn't mean to.  But… everything was going so fast.  And… people were dying.  Clark stopped that." 

They were silent then, and Lex could remember the look on Clark's face when the emergency personnel had checked the dead man out, shaking their heads and leaving the body for the cops.  His friend hadn't been the same since- Clark had spent the night in a haze, not thinking, and just following orders.  Not realizing his chest was covered in bruises.  Barely hearing what was said to him.  And most importantly to Lex, not watching out for another attack.

Lex still had to determine what he was going to do next, but right now he was too tired to think.  "I'm going to bed."  He announced, and got up.

////

Author's Notes:  

Writter's Block is a @$#.  Sorry this is so late.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Lex groggily came awake to the sound of someone knocking at his bedroom door.

"Lex?"  It was Martha, "Are you up?"

"I am now," he groaned.

"Lex… I hate to bother you- but Jonathan's already scared off two reporters trying to sneak onto the property.  And the television is still talking about what happened… and… that you were there last night.  And, well, could you call your security?"  The last was said in almost a pleading tone.

Lex dragged himself to a sitting position on the side of the bed, hands rubbing his temples.  He groaned again, looking at the clock.  It was only six o'clock, the sun wasn't even up yet.  Damn.

He reached over to the nightstand, plucking up his phone, turning it on, and disconnecting the charger.  Hit the required buttons.

"Lex?"  It was Martha, still on the other side of the door.

"I'm on it-" He replied, and then said into the phone when it picked up.  "Hello, Lex Luthor."

"Uh, sir?"  The voice on the other line was nervous.

"Why are there reporters on the Kent farm?"  Lex snarled.

"Sorry sir," his security head was very apologetic.  "We've been trying to run a perimeter- but you did say that we couldn't step foot on the property- and we couldn't get a hold of you- and we were going to send someone over as soon as the sun came up-"

Lex swore to himself, remembering his orders to his men. '_Don't bother me while I'm on the farm.  And I never want to find out that you've placed any sort of surveillance equipment on the Kent property.  I don't even want you out there._'

Lex paused, then began, "send over the required teams.  You can set up _temporary_ equipment of the perimeter.  I don't want anything installed near the house or the buildings, but talk to Jonathan- Mr. Kent- on patrol patterns.  A visible presence might be best right now."

"Yes sir!"

"Goodnight."  Lex hung up on him.  Stared at the phone.  "Martha?"

"Yes, Lex?"  Of course she was still waiting on the other side of the door.

"Some of my people are coming over.  They've been given permission to set up some equipment to monitor the property line.  I told them to talk to Jonathan."

"Thank you, dear."  Martha sounded relieved.  "I'll let you get back to sleep."

Lex chucked the phone back on the table, lying down.  "Thanks."

////

Down the hall, Clark was still sleeping.  He was still wearing his clothes from yesterday; he hadn't even taken off his shoes when he went to bed.

////

Smallville's Police Station was usually quiet as the grave this time of night, but not tonight.  Sarge had returned here to run operations once they had pulled the majority of the evidence out of the Beanery.  

The older man was sitting behind a desk in the open office space, idly flipping through the roster, picking out tomorrow's assignments.  Some of his men sat at other desks, organizing information and filing the statements of the witnesses.  The people wanted answers, and Smallville's protectors would deliver.

Exhausted, the Chief Police Officer of Smallville's Cops gulped at his half-warm coffee, grimacing the taste.  Men his age shouldn't pull all-nighters, they really weren't up for it anymore.  He looked up, "Yeah, what is it?"

"Sir… the fingerprints came back from the feds on the suspect."  The young detective gulped, he was looking at his boss with something close to horror in his eyes.

Suddenly wary, Sarge straightened.  Something about Smith's expression…  "And?"

"Sir."  Smith handed him the folder.  "Maybe we should go into your office?"

Sarge stood up, opening the folder up as he went.  It contained the rap sheet of their suspect, faxed over from the feds.  Yep, there was the man's photo- but it was an old one, he had been arrested once as a teen.  Assault.  Wonderful, why couldn't they lock the violent ones up forever?

He flipped the page.  More photos- but these were surveillance photos- grainy and obviously taken at a distance.  

They entered his office, Smith closing the door behind them.  Sarge kept looking.  Suspected murder- great… Wait, another one?  And another?  And… suspected… mob ties… and…

"Smith?"

"Yes sir?"

"He's a hit man?"  His voice was very quiet.

"According to the feds."  Smith voice was tight.

"Lex Luthor." Sarge mused, "He was right there-" Sarge paused, "What was Mr. Luthor's statement?"

"He… hasn't given it yet, sir.  He had been helping out last night, and he was tired.  We let him go home."

"Smith- get my car.  And a few of the boys.  We need to talk to Mr. Luthor."

"Yes sir."  Smith straightened, and then continued, "Sir, the feds- when the report came in, they told me that they'd be sending someone over.  I asked them to keep a lid on this as long as they could, but…"

"It's gonna hit the fan."

"Yes sir."

"Damn… when they get a hold of this- I hate reporters."

////

Chloe was sitting in the passenger side front seat of the old Buick as it barreled down the highway.  Beside her, Danko Ranvich- the reporter who had helped her write up her interview of Lex Luthor for the Daily Planet- was busy sipping coffee and cursing at slow drivers.  In the back, the Daily Planet's top photographer was snoring.

The sun was barely coming up over the horizon.  

Chloe pounded on the keys of her cell phone again, mumbling in frustration.  "Damn it- no one's answering.  Even their answering machine is turned off."

"Think we can stop for a visit at Lex Luthor's place of residence?"  Danko growled, gunning the motor around a bend in the two-lane highway.

Chloe shrugged, forgetting that he couldn't see her while driving.  "I dunno where he lives right now.  Last I knew he was staying with Clark- the Kents were putting him up."

"Rumor is," the older man snorted, he rarely trusted rumors.  Used them, yes, but he didn't trust them, "that some kid stopped the shooter."

Chloe sighed, "that's Clark all right."

The old newshound glared at the offending road.  "You think he's the kid?"

"Yeah, Clark's like that."  Chloe sighed, then started punching in new numbers.  "Look, I know you said we're going to Smallville on business, but I'm going to call my dad.  Lex might come into the factory to work or something, and my dad might know where he is."

Ranvich glared out the window and over the countryside.  "You do that," he softly growled.  He was still mad at Perry for making him bring the girl.  She was all right as an intern, but letting her go on such a big story was bound to give her a big head.  And the last thing he wanted to do was babysit some green rookie who thought she knew the ropes just because she was lucky enough to have some important friends.

////

She had decided to breast-feed her daughter.  Everything Jessica had read said that breast-feeding was best for the baby, giving her child improved nutrition and immune system, and Jessica wanted her baby to be perfect.  Not to mention, Lionel didn't push her so hard to 'try again' whenever she was holding little Katie.  She was still sore from the birth, what was he thinking?

But waking up at all hours to feed the little brat was getting on her nerves.  She held the baby in her arms, wandering away from the nursery and into the entertainment room.  She flicked on the television, and adjusting her robe to let little Katie drink, sat down to watch CNN.

Smallville?  Three dead?  Sixteen wounded?  Five still in critical condition?  And Lex Luthor had been there.  He was unhurt, getting credit for helping out afterwards, but… 

Jessica stumbled to her feet, almost running to Lionel's bedroom.  Katie wailed a protest, and Jessica shifted the baby in her arms.  "Lionel?"  She asked, and the slumbering form of her husband shifted in the dark room, groaning as he came awake.  "Lionel?"

"Yes?"

"Lionel, there's been a shooting in Smallville-" Jessica paused, "and Lex- Alexander-"

"Dead?"  There was a strange catch in Lionel's voice, Jessica didn't quite notice.

"No- no- he's fine; but he was there.  There was a gunman, someone crazy- he went into the coffee shop and opened fire-"

"What?"  Lionel sounded angry.

"The gunman, he shot up the place, the news said three people were dead-"

"Damn."  The billionaire rose to his feet, grabbing his silk robe from the finely carved wooden end table by the bed.  "What happened?"

"The gunman came into the coffeehouse and- and- shot up the place."

"No.  What happened to the gunman?"

"Oh- ah, someone stopped him.  He's rumored to be dead, but the police haven't released the information…"

Lionel was walking past her, into the bathroom.  "Call security- tell them I want a full report."

"Yes," Jessica replied, confused.  Kattie began to wail.  "Of course."  She stood there, in the empty room, trying to quiet Kattie as she thought of his response.  It was very strange.

////

Author's Notes:

Last time I was too tired (I finished at 2am) to write my notes, so here goes-

Thank you Cathal for helping me get over my Writer's Block!

And, did you know, I've only gotten two votes out of everyone to kill Whit?  Personally, never really like him- but… well… I can really use him in the story.  Clark's guilt factor- when he realizes Whit's dream of football is dead because he pushed Lex out of the way instead of just stopping the bullets- is important for Superman's character development.  

And don't worry- this chapter is mostly just setting the stage for the next round of angst.


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Lex struggled into his silk bathrobe, cursing at the stiffness in his neck and arms.  How hard had Clark thrown him to the ground yesterday, anyway?  There was a thick bruise on the back of one of his arms, and the slightest marks of fingertips on the side of his neck.  He had remembered Clark holding his head when they hit the ground.

Before Clark had practically teleported over to that crazed idiot with the guns.

Someone knocked on the door again.  "Yes?"

"Sir?  Mrs. Kent wants to know if you want breakfast."

"Tell her yes, I'd like some eggs."  It was going to be a long day, and he would need the more energy than coffee and a single piece of toast.

"Of course, sir."  Lex sighed- the man on the other side of the door was one of his security officers.  They had obviously wasted no time getting over here.  "And sir?  The police have arrived, they want your statement from last night."

As if he had forgotten why Martha had woken him.  "I'll be right out."

////

Sarge, Detective Smith, Detective McGriffen, and Police officer Klines sat in the living room of the Kent farm.  Mrs. Kent was busy fluttering between them, depositing steaming plates of hot bacon, eggs, and toast in front of each man.  She poured coffee, deposited cream and sugar on the table, and took orders like a professional waitress.  Sarge wondered if she had worked as one before she got married.

"Mrs. Kent, these are some mean eggs."  The young brown-haired man bent over his plate, shoveling away.  None of them had gotten anything decent to eat all night, and a home-cooked breakfast was a nice respite.

"Thank you, Officer Klines."

"Good coffee, too."  Sarge added, "beats the swill at the station hands down."

His boys laughed, "wouldn't take much," one added.

"I'll still take that as a compliment."  The woman was smiling good naturedly, turning with lifted coffee pot to the silent private security personnel that was obviously one of Alexander Luthor's flunkies.  "Want some?"

"No thank you ma'am.  On duty."

The woman 'humpf'ed as she swept back into the kitchen.  There was a story there, but Sarge didn't ask.  

The officers ate their breakfast, Sarge thinking about the man upstairs that they came to 'question'.  Lex Luthor had 'donated' more than enough funds for the entire Smallville Police Force to look the other way for his speeding and occasional loud parties.  But none of the officers would be willing to look the other way for murder.  If the young Luthor was the innocent victim in this, they would do everything in their power to protect him- but if Alexander Luthor had knowingly risked the lives of all those people?  People whose families Sarge had to call in the middle of the night to tell them about their children?  The entire Force would let him hang out to dry.

They had set it up on the way over; Detective McGriffen would lead the questioning.  He had the most experience, and was rather talented at it.  The older portly man with balding head and gentle face reminded one of their friendly older uncle- a safe man to talk to, to tell what had happened.

Detective McGriffen straightened, and clearing his throat, asked, "So, Mister…?"  He waved a hand at the stiff-suited man with a gun obviously strapped under his jacket.  (Sarge had already asked to see the man's permit.  His paperwork was all in order.)

"Ramone, John Ramone."  The man dryly replied.  He was blond, middle-aged, with a close-cut military style haircut.  Sarge was willing to bet the man had spent a few years working for Uncle Sam.

McGriffen politely wiped his mouth, smiling up at the man in a friendly manner.  "Mr. Ramone- what security measures do you employ when Mr. Luthor visits the Kent farm?  I saw your men and a vehicle parked outside."

"We are currently patrolling the perimeter."   The man tried to sound self-assured, but didn't quite manage to pull it off.

"That's it?"  McGriffen asked.  

"Yes sir."  The man shrugged.  "We only started this morning.  The reporters were managing to penetrate the property.  We were asked to intervene."

"Roaches."  Sarge growled.  "I've spent all night trying to keep those scavengers out of the crime scene."

The detective nodded.  "Yes, they've been a problem.  But- that's it?"

"Yes sir.  Lex Luthor was very particular about that.  And, as I said, we only started that this morning."  The man seemed very uncomfortable, and McGriffen pounced on it.

"Oh.  So when Mr. Luthor has come to visit before, you offered no security?"

"Ah… No sir."  The middle-aged blond man seemed put off about it.

"None?  For a man of Mr. Luthor's wealth and stature, that seems a little odd."

John Ramone obviously squashed a grimace.  "We were following orders."

"Weren't you afraid that someone would kidnap Mr. Luthor while he visited?  Or assault him or something?"  

"Ah… actually, Lex Luthor lives here."  The man didn't even try and hide his grimace at that statement.

"He… lives here?"  McGriffen replied, and then added, "with no security?"

"I haven't needed it."  They turned, and Lex Luthor was walking down the stairs.  He looked tired, but very calm and self-assured.  He was wearing a plush silk bathrobe and slippers, both in a deep purple- almost black.  Sarge sipped his coffee, amazed at how calm the man seemed.

McGriffen cocked his head, waiting.  "Really, Mr. Luthor?"  He added.

"Call me Lex.  No, I haven't needed it."  The young man smiled at Mrs. Kent as he sat at the dinning room table.  She set a large plate in front of him, adding coffee and orange juice before going back to the kitchen to clean the dishes.  Sarge noted that Mr. Luthor also got fresh fruit on his plate.  Luthor took a bite and then waved his fork.  "I don't have a lot of enemies, Mister-?"

"Ah, excuse me- I'm Detective McGriffen, this is Detective Smith, Officer Klines, and Sarge- Michael Jackson, but we just call him Sarge."  Sarge scowled at the man- he hated anyone even knowing his name.

"Pleased to meet you."  Sarge knew it the introductions were mostly for show, Lex Luthor had met some of them before.  The young millionaire continued, "No, Mister McGriffen, I don't have a lot of enemies- I used to, but that was more a case of my father's enemies.  I… ah… no longer have that problem."  The young man gave a small smile, before starting to eat his breakfast with hurried, precise motions.

The police officers just watched the young Luthor in disbelief, and McGriffen spoke again, "No enemies?  Are you sure?"  

"Fairly-" Lex said, putting down his fork to drink his juice, before adding, "Perhaps my father would be considered an enemy, but we've been ignoring each other.  Why do you ask?"

McGriffen looked to his boss, who nodded.  "Does the name 'Charles Leonard Durnes' mean anything to you?"

"No."

"How about 'Black Hope'?"

The millionaire paused, carefully putting down his glass.  He looked a little strained.  "Vaguely.  The name… I've heard of it.  Why do you ask?"

"Could you tell us where you've heard of anything called 'Black Hope'?  It's important."

The young millionaire took a deep breath before answering.  Sarge couldn't help but notice the purple circles under Lex Luthor's eyes; the man must be tired, despite his few hours of sleep.  Exhausted would be more accurate- Sarge had heard how Lex Luthor had helped organize the survivors and the wounded last night before the authorities had arrive, and how he had made several calls- lining up extra doctors and surgeons for the wounded.  That kind of work was draining on a man.  Luthor began, hesitantly, "I'm not sure that answering your questions without my attorneys present is a good idea.  They are supposed to arrive late this morning.  However, in a completely unofficial, unrecorded, and not part of any statement I made to you and your officers?"

Sarge nodded an affirmative, noticing the sudden shifting of the security personnel Mr. Ramone.

Lex looked at Detective McGriffen.  "I remember, vaguely, my father mentioning that name.   Lionel made a remark about the man being a 'private consultant' for 'personal problems', and that his solutions where 'of a permanent nature'.  Besides that, I haven't heard of that name.  Father mentioned him, but did not show me how to contact the individual or told me how- or if- he had ever employed him."  The young man paused, wiping a hand over his smooth head, "And could you, unofficially, of course, tell me why this is important?"

McGriffen looked at Sarge.  Sarge cleared his throat- they might as well tell him- it wasn't likely that Lex Luthor had been living _here_, on a farm, with _no_ security if he had known someone wanted to kill him.  The idea was ludicrous.  "Because, Mr. Lex Luthor, Charles Leonard Durnes is currently lying on ice in Smallville's morgue."

The young man was frozen, just for a second, before he blanched.  Then he went totally still, and Sarge could only marvel at a Luthor's control over their emotions.  The rich young man answered back in emotionless voice, "The gunman was… a hit?"  A tiny crack in his control, a quick swallow, and then, "Someone put a hit on _me_?"

"Yes."  McGriffen was quite calm, even if the young Luthor was sheet-white.  "It's unlikely that Durnes was hired to assassinate anyone else in the Beanery.  We will investigate, but…" McGriffen paused, and then said, "Do you have any idea on who might have hired him?  Anyone who'd…"

"Want me dead?"

Sarge was amazed that the young man could sound so calm about it.  But he probably had been living under death-threats most of his life.

Lex Luthor shook his head, obviously forcing himself to think clearly.  "Not really.  I haven't made many personal enemies in the business world.  Like I said, most of the people who would have wanted me dead are no longer a threat- they hated my father, not me.  The few that my father sent me to… deal with in an unfair manner… well, it was under his direction.  Their threats were directly to him, not to me.  In fact, I've had a few businesses that refused to deal with my father again contact me to say that they would be interested in working together."

"Any former employees were let go who were unhappy about the fact?"

The millionaire smirked, somehow poorly amused.  "There are always some of those.  I had an upper level manager or two that I had to let go when I took over the other fertilizer plants.  They refused to follow the new business practices.  But I don't think either one of them would hire anyone- they lack that kind of capitol."

"Who would?"  McGriffen asked.

Lex Luthor's eyes were cold, bitter, and Sarge noticed they also held a good deal of buried fear.  "My father.  His wife- if she has access to the money.  Which I doubt.  Then there are the companies that I've had to deal with, in my father's name, which might have taken it personally.   There are also… a few… individuals who are spending time in jail right now for illegal drug distribution and manufacturing that might have a grudge against me- but they wouldn't hire out.  Perhaps some of the women I've had relationships with that ended badly.  I assume you want a full list?"

"Yes, of course."  McGriffen sighed, "and please include the company personnel you had to fire.  We need to have them checked- we want to cover all the bases."  He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a chewed upon pen and small battered notebook.  He flipped it open to an empty page.  "Could you please give me the names now?"

Lex held out his hand, taking the notebook and pen, writing down names in his precise handwriting.  "Detective McGriffen, to be totally honest, I'm not sure which one of these men- or women- it might be.  And if it is one of these people- several of them live out of the country, or out of the state.  How do you plan on questioning them?"

The officers grimaced as a group, and Sarge replied.  "I believe the Feds are sending over a team.  Apparently, 'Black Hope' is fairly well known in international circles, and they want to pick through every last shred of evidence to see if they can't find more about his operation."

It was hard to miss the tightening of the bald man's jaw.  "Wonderful," he whispered, "Like we need more media."  He looked up sharply.  "It hasn't been released yet?  The name of the gunman?"

McGriffen cleared his throat.  "No.  We plan on keeping that under wraps as long as possible."  He motioned towards the stairs.  "And we've spent all night taking statements from the other victims and bystanders of the shooting.  We're aware that Clark Kent stopped the gunman, killing him.  But we still need to talk to him. Is he awake?"

"I don't think so."  Lex replied, "Ask Martha."

"Mrs. Kent," McGriffen called, "is your son awake?"

The blond woman came out of the kitchen, wiping the water from her hands onto a dishtowel.  "No, I don't think so.  Do I need to wake him?"  She frowned, suddenly nervous.  "He… collapsed into bed last night- he didn't even change.  He's… dirty."  She folded the towel, watching her hands before placing the towel over the back of a dinning room chair.  "I… didn't want to wake him.  He's not in trouble, is he?"

Sarge nodded.  "No, Mrs. Kent.  He's not in trouble.  And we don't need to wake him.  I've talked to some of the other kids, Mrs. Kent.  You son is a brave young man for what he did.  I know it's hard for him to take in- but… well, that man was killing people.  Your son stopped that.  I know that he's going to have to work through it- killing another man, even with good cause, is never easy.  We can talk to him later.  Perhaps we could come back at a more reasonable hour?  Perhaps ten?"

Mrs. Kent nodded, and the officers stood, McGriffen taking the list of names from Lex Luthor.  They filed out, Mrs. Kent and Lex Luthor watching them go.

////

His father wanted to kill him.  Lex turned back to his breakfast, eating the food with methodical precision while he thought.  He looked up, glaring at his security officer.  "Ramone, do you have somewhere else you need to be?"

The man gulped.  "Sir?  I was wondering- we need to up your personal security.  Should be post more people, perhaps in the house?"

Lex shook his head.  "Not yet- more around the perimeter, more at the plant.  I'll relocate there later today."  He waved his fork, "I'd like to eat in private."

"Yes sir."  Mr. Ramone walked to the door.

"And Ramone?"

"Yes sir?"

"Who do you work for?"

Ramone blinked, confused.  "You, sir?"

"Yes.  Me.  Not anyone else.  Try to see if everyone remembers that, would you?"

"Yes sir.  Of course, sir."

Lex turned away, hearing the man leave.  The food was tasteless in his mouth, but he ate it anyway.  He would need it, so much to do- so many calls he had to make.  And details to cover- like the medical personnel he brought in from his company- they needed better accommodations.  And that shipping contract he needed to work on.  And the possible offer on the office building in Gotham.  And not to mention his security-

Lex swore, tossing the fork across the room.  He dropped his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes.

His father.  It had to be his father.  

"Lex?"  It was Martha, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

His father.  He should have known.

"Lex?  It will be okay.  I…"  Martha murmured, rubbing his shoulder.

Lex straightened.  "Martha…  Did you listen?"

The woman sat down beside him.  "A little.  Is it true, did your father really tell you about… 'Black Hope'?"

Lex smirked, it came out as a snarl.  "Tell me?  He recommended him- the man has a reputation for making loud, messy, public assassinations that look like a mob hit out of a movie.  Lionel told me that he was the best one to hire when you wanted someone to go down, and wanted everyone to know the man was assassinated, but you didn't want any tracks leading to you."

"Oh."  Martha blinked.  Then grimaced, "Your father hired him?"

"I just didn't…" Lex knew he sounded hurt, couldn't help it, "I just didn't think he'd go after me.  I didn't think… he'd… really… want me… dead."  He took a shuddering breath.  "I knew we'd take shots at each other, just a little in-fighting, nothing serious.  I… didn't know he'd take the LuthorCorp stock price manipulation so seriously.  I…"

Martha patted his shoulder.  

Lex took a deep breath.  "And all my security comes out of LuthorCorp…" He stuck his hand in his robe's pocket, coming up empty.  "I need to make a few calls."  He got up, walking away, leaving Martha at the table.  "Damn… I hope he's up…"

////

"Bruce, it's Lex.  Lex Luthor."

"Yes, I know it's early.  I'm sorry… it's an emergency."

"Yes, I know my emergencies aren't yours…  but… have you been watching the news?"

"Thanks.  I appreciate your support.  We've pretty much got it covered, except…  is this line secure?"

"It is?  Good.  I don't really want this on the news, but… since I know _you_ didn't hire him…"

"Yes, I mean that- it was a hit."

"Yes.  The local police confirmed the gunman's identity.  Does the name 'Black Hope' mean anything to you?"

"The one and only."

"Yes, he's dead.  Guess my dear father can't use him anymore."

"Who else would it be?  I know that there are people out there that don't like me, but…"

"Except for the fact that ALL my personal security comes directly out of LuthorCorp?"

"Yes.  All.  I didn't need additional staff, and since I managed to pick a random group of personnel, I thought I'd be safe."

"Yes, I would like to know the names of some reputable security agents."

"Trust you?  Bruce, if you were me- who would you trust more- someone who has worked for Lionel Luthor or Bruce Wayne?"

"Yes.  As soon as you can manage it, actually."

"Of course I owe you one."

"Thank you."


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38 

The water was as hot as Clark could get it, and he could barely feel it.  He scrubbed as hard and fast as he could, tearing through another washcloth, but it still didn't seem to help.  The water had long since washed the last of the rusty, dried red down the drain, but Clark could still feel it on his skin.  For all the water's heat, it didn't seem to help.  It was probably too hot for- a normal person- but he wasn't normal, was he?

He had _killed_ someone.

With his _powers_.

His parents… they had warned him.  Lectured him.  Told him he had to be careful, told him how badly he could hurt someone.

They must hate him now.

Afterwards, everything had become a blur, leaving him to wake up disoriented and alone.  He didn't really remember coming home.  He knew he had come home with Lex, and then had gone to bed.  He had been still wearing his clothes, still covered in blood.

Whitney's blood.

Whitney and some other girl.  He didn't know her name- he had seen her in the hallways at school, but he didn't know who she was.  Just that she was at the Beanery last night.  And after the medics had taken over helping Whitney, he had moved over to help her.

But how did helping her make it better?

He had _killed_ someone.

With his _powers_.

Clark sat down heavily on the floor of the shower, letting the hot water fall on him.

She had been shot in the arm.  She had been bleeding, and crying in pain.  And her mother had been with her.  They both had been crying.  Her mother kept wailing, calling for the medics.  But the girl had to wait for them to finish with others first.  Because getting shot in the arm wasn't an emergency.

And that was just messed up.

He had tried to help.  Tried to stop the man.

He could still smell the blood.

Why hadn't he done it faster?  Whitney was hurt.  Bad.  And… all those other people.  He could still hear the screams.  Why hadn't he done it faster?  Gone for the gun, not for pushing Lex down?

But…  He had _killed_ someone.

With his _powers_.

He should have done it different.  Gotten to the gun first.  Known the man was coming.  Kept better watch.  Lex had been counting on him- and he had _failed_.

People were _dead_ because he _failed_.

They had been taken away… in bags.  Thick, black bags with zippers and on stretchers and all the medical people and all the rush and all the yelling and they hadn't been able to stop it.  The bleeding.  The people who had fallen on the ground, they stopped breathing and wouldn't stop bleeding and why didn't it stop?  Why couldn't he stop seeing it?  Why couldn't he have stopped it?  So he wouldn't be seeing it now?

And he wanted it to stop, and it kept not stopping, and he kept seeing it.  And smelling it.  And hearing it.  And… that slow… slow… arc… of the lamp… graceful… smooth… too fast… wouldn't stop…  Too hard…

He had _killed_ someone.

With his _powers_.

It was his fault.  He wasn't fast enough.  He acted to fast.  Acted wrong, acted bad.  He was… horrible… it…

"Clark?"

His mother.  She… had been pounding on the door for awhile.  And the water was cold.  "Yes?"  She must hate him.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."  Not fine.  Not good.  Not, not, not.

"Okay, good.  Why don't you come down for breakfast?"

"Okay."  He turned the knob, turning off the water.

"Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"The police are going to be here in a few minutes.  They need to talk to you.  Okay?  Just so you know they're coming."

He watched the last of the water drip from the showerhead, watched it slow, slow, hang in the air- not moving.  He blinked.  It fell down, hitting the drain.  Everything felt very far away.

"Clark?"

"I'll be out."  He hadn't even thought of it- but what if they took him away?  He had killed someone.  That was wrong, right?  It… wasn't really self-defense.  But… they wouldn't know, right?  Maybe… it was okay.  Maybe… NO.  Not okay… just legal.

It was too much for his brain, Clark realized, and forced himself to get out of the shower and get dressed.

////

Author's Notes:

I think I'm better at action and plot than emotional angst.  This has been rather hard for me, and I still have to force myself to slog through it so we can get back to ki- uh… dealing with Lionel.  (God, please let the plot twist in such a way that I can do the ending I want.  I think everyone will like it.  Amen.)

Oh, and not to be a kill-joy, but I promise that this fic will be done by Chapter 100, which some of you (you know who you are) don't believe.  Even if this is a rather short chapter.


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Sarge didn't really like the Feds.  It had taken him less than five minutes to figure that out.  One, brief, dismissive introduction, one overly strong insistence to review their 'records', several semi-insulting comments on the quality of their investigation later and Sarge couldn't see the backside of these guys fast enough.  'Agent Felty' and 'Agent Baldwin' indeed.  The pair had obviously watched too many episodes of a certain television show.  No one talked like that.

They wore cheap suits.  Cut their hair short.  Both a little young to be on such a big case alone, in Sarge's opinion.  Both thin and athletic, and the old cop was willing to bet that they spent more time in the gym than sitting behind a desk working.  The drive out to the Kent Farm had been tense- neither one of the agents wanted to go out there, they wanted the kid and Lex Luthor to come back to the station.  But Sarge had insisted- pointing out the media and the security issues for the young Luthor.  Never mind Sarge wasn't about to tell Lex Luthor that _he_ had to come into the station like some lackey.  Especially when one of the agents seemed to stiffen at the very name 'Luthor', which didn't bode well for the next round of questioning.  
  
And here they sat- him, McGriffen, the two Feds, Lex, Mr. Ramone, and the Kents.  And lawyers- expensive ones too, by the looks of them.  They looked to be cut from the same cloth with expensive suits and blank faces.  Sarge wondered how Lex Luthor managed to get criminal lawyers all the way from Gotham this quickly.  Did he keep them on retainer?  Sarge hoped not- it would mean that they has misjudged the millionaire.

"Now," It was Felty, and Sarge could already taste the bitter flavor in the back of his throat that he was learning to associate with this man.  "It's not procedure for parents or friends to sit in on the questioning- so leave."  He waved a hand while dropping a tape recorder onto the coffee table, and the Kents only shifted before rising slowly.  Sarge was confused, wondering if he shouldn't say something.  Their poor son looked terrified.  He was a minor, and a hero, and these two were treating him like an experienced criminal.

Sarge remained sitting, watching as the Kents left and the lawyers dropped their own recorder on the desk.  McGriffen shot him a look, and Sarge twisted his lips.  They knew that the Feds would go about this all wrong- but they had been 'warned' about interfering.  After all, it was a 'privilege' to be 'invited' along. 

Then Lex eyed the two agents before rising himself, motioning to his security agent and his lawyers.  Mr. Ramone left, but the lawyers stayed.  Lex Luthor walked over, sitting by Clark Kent.

Felty glared at them.  "Everyone."

"Clark is a fifteen-year-old minor."  Lex replied.  "And it's legal for him to have a family member with him during questioning.  Or," Lex smiled, and it wasn't pretty, "a friend- when his parents aren't available.  And it takes a lot of work to run a farm- work that doesn't stop for anyone or anything."

The agent glared, but Sarge hid his smile.  Lex was right- and the agent had painted himself into a corner.  Felty glared, growling out, "as long as you don't try and interfere with the questioning," he then turned to the two lawyers, barking out, "and you?"

"We represent Mr. Kent."  They replied.  In unison, which was kind of eerie.  One of them continued, "The owners of LexCorp have hired us to represent young Mr. Kent and Lex Luthor in this matter.  Now, is Mr. Kent being questioned as a suspect, or just for informational purposes of your investigation?"  Smooth, sounding for all the world like they could either make this easy, or hard.

The other agent cleared his throat.  "Mr. Kent is not being charged with any crime at this time.  In fact, we would like to state that with our current information, Mr. Kent clearly acted in self-defense in regards to the late Mr. Leo Durnes.  However, it is within the Federal Government's interest to find and prosecute whomever hired Mr. Durnes.  Therefore, we are here to find any ties or clues we can to Mr. Durnes current employer."  Baldwin was apparently the 'good cop'.

"It's true?"  Clark Kent sounded every inch of the scared young man that he probably was right now.  "Someone hired… paid money, I mean, for that man to come in and sh- shoot up the Beanery?  To… get Lex?"  Poor kid, he probably felt guilt for what he had done.  Sarge remembered what that was like- to take a life in the line of duty.  It never sat well.  One more reason to leave the big city and come here.  Lex had reached over, giving Clark a gentle squeeze on his shoulder.

"Yes, we believe that the gunman had been hired to kill Mr. Luthor."  One of the agents replied.  "All information points in that direction.  A man like Leo Durnes doesn't usually 'go postal'.  Now, do you know anyone that might want Mr. Luthor dead?"

"Not really.  I mean, Lex is a good guy." Clark gave his friend a quick smile,  "I mean, yeah, his father's a jerk, and lots of people hate him 'cause of his dad."  Clark scrunched up his face, thinking. 

"Anyone at all?"  Felty asked, asking like he was speaking to a two-year old.

"I dunno.  Lex never really talked about business with me."  Clark gave his friend a look, explaining, "I mean, yeah- you talked about business stuff, like what to look for in people, how to act" Clark nodded at Lex, then turned back to the Feds, "but he never talked about _people_.  He never gave names."  Kid was polite, Sarge would give him that.  Was willing to help, even if this guy was a jerk.  Good thing they had spoken to Lex earlier- he would have clamed up tighter than Ft. Knox, just on the principal of the thing.  The young millionaire was looking a little peeved right now, anyway.

"Did you ever overhear Mr. Luthor arguing with anyone?"

"Just his father.  Lionel would call him up and yell at him about the plant.  About making more money.  And Lex wouldn't lay off those people that one time- and Lionel and him got in a fight.  I think, anyway.  Lex mentioned it, I didn't see it."

"Did Lionel Luthor ever threaten him?  Where you could overhear."

"Not… really.  I mean, not like that.  On the phone.  Just… 'I'll send you someplace worse than Smallville', 'don't speak back to me, young man', and 'you're not irreplaceable'."

"When did this happen?"

The kid looked uncomfortable, "I dunno, lots of times.  We'd be in the car, Lex would use the speaker-phone.  He doesn't like holding onto the phone while he's driving."

"You were in the car with him while he spoke with his father?  How many times?"  The agent sounded like he had found something out, Sarge was confused.

"A few.  We'd drive around a lot."  Clark smiled for the first time in the interview, "sometimes he lets me drive the car."

"Drive the car?  Which one?"

Lex smirked.  "It depends on what I was wearing, mostly.  But I've let Clark drive most of them- including the Lamborghini." 

"That's rather nice of you, Mr. Luthor."

"I owe Clark my life."  Lex calmly replied.

 "Ah, yes.   That was in the file."  Felty replied, then turning back to Clark the agent continued, "Now, let's go over what happened last night," a brief glance at the lawyers, "just to have the record."  

"Now," They pulled out a map, a floor plan really, of the Beanery.  "You were sitting here?"  Felty was pointing.

"Yeah."  The kid gulped, and Sarge scooted a little closer to the table.

"And Lex Luthor was here."

"Yeah."  Hesitant, like he was nervous.  Poor kid, Sarge thought.

"Were you sitting with anyone?"

"Lana and Whitney.  They were here, and here."  Clark pointed.

"Can you tell me what happened?"  He didn't say it like a question, more as an order.  

"We came in, to have a cup of coffee.  Lana and Whit were there, we sat with them.  Talking about stuff.  I- was turning around… and I saw him pull out the guns… and I knocked Lex down.  The man was shooting, and I stopped him."

"So, you knocked Lex down.  Why?"

"He was pointing the gun at Lex."

"He was pointing at Lex?  How long?  Did he shoot anyone else first?"  The questions started to snap out.

"I think so- I don't know.  I… saw the gun.  He was shooting.  I knocked Lex down."

Lex Luthor smirked again, adding, "Knocked the air right out of me."

The agent ignored Lex, still speaking to Clark, "He was shooting, and your first thought was that Lex was a target?"

"He was pointing at Lex."

"But he didn't shoot Lex."

"He… was pointing at Lex."  The kid gulped.  "He… shot Whitney."

"It's all right Clark."  Lex cut in, "Whitney's fine.  He's out of surgery, and he's doing fine."

The agent ignored Lex, saying instead, "So, to summarize so far, you saw the gunman take aim at Lex Luthor, you knocked Lex Luthor down, and then ran over to the gunman."

"Yeah."  Clark said.

The man cleared his throat, and then started up again. "Then you 'stopped him', right?"

"Yeah.  With the lamp."

"Why the lamp?  Why didn't you just punch him?"

"I… wanted to stop him."

"Stop him?  Permanently?"

"NO!"  The young man gasped, "No!  I… I just wanted to knock him out.  Stop him.  I… didn't think… punching him would be enough."

"You hit him pretty hard."

"I was scared."  The young Kent sounded a little lost.  "I… didn't mean it."

The agent whispered under his breath, "Humpf.  He's still dead."

"Mr. Felty-" Lex snarled, while the lawyers leaned forward, one of them hissing, "are you accusing my client of a crime?"

Felty backed off, "No, I'm not."  He gave them an insincere grin.  "Just stating his actions for the record."

Sarge was stunned, and furious- that agent was treating the hero of the whole wretched event like some sort of criminal.  Young Kent was almost in tears with his guilt, and the Federal Agent looked almost pleased with himself.

The only good thing about it was the fact that Lex Luthor looked about ready to have the hired help throw these 'agents' out with yesterday's trash.  "Mr. Felty, don't you dare suggest that my friend Clark Kent is in any way responsible for the death of Mr. Durnes."

"He did kill him, Mr. Luthor."  Felty coldly replied.  "You can't ignore that."

"I'm not ignoring that," Lex ground out, "but I'm also not ignoring how many people Clark saved by taking that man down.  And if you don't see it that way, I think you better leave."

Peeved, Agent Felty started replying, "Mr. Luthor-"

"Now."

"Mr. Luthor, I wouldn't suggest you interfere with my investigation."

"Mr. Felty, I wouldn't suggest that you insinuate such obviously false preliminary conclusions to your investigation.  It won't look good on your record."

"Mr. Luthor, are you threatening me?"

Lex Luthor snorted in amusement.  "No.  I don't have to.  The truth is that this investigation will make or break your careers, and I don't have to do a thing."  Lex leaned back.  "Go find the bastard that set that man on me, and don't bother my friends.  Neither one of us have time for this."  He leaned back in obvious dismissal.

Felty leaned forward, but his partner gently leaned a hand on his arm.  "Of course, Mr. Luthor."  Agent Baldwin replied.  "Perhaps we should be going?  We can always contact you later; you will be staying here, am I right?"

"Of course."

////

It didn't take long for the shouting to start.  They had sat around for awhile, waiting for the officers to leave, waiting for the lawyers to leave to go back to their hotel room, and waiting for the security personnel to leave the house as well.

Clark had muttered something about it being his fault, and his parents had replied that it wasn't.  Clark's reply has been instantaneous and strident. 

"Because it _is_ my fault, that's why!"  Clark snarled, turning away.  "I was the only one in the Beanery who could have stopped him- the only one with the strength and the speed.  I should have done it sooner- and no one would have died!"

Jonathan rose up, starting to walk towards him.  "Clark, son… you did everything you could.  You were surprised.  You can't blame yourself for what that man did."

Martha added her part in.  "Clark, it's not your fault-"

"Yes it is!  I could have stopped him!  You've told me- I have these powers, I have responsibility!"

"Clark!"  Jonathan blustered, "that's not right!"

"Dad-"

"Clark-"

"Mom!"

Quiet and unnoticed, Lex suddenly stood up.  He was looking at Clark, face blank.  The Kents looked at him as he walked over to Clark.  "Clark… you're right."  Behind him, Martha gasped while Jonathan tensed.  "You know why you're right?"

Clark looked at him, miserable.  "Yeah, cause I failed to… protect all those people."

"Yes- because you could have stopped it.  You had the time right?  And the _training_, right?  A degree from one of the personal security schools found around the world, right?  All my _other_ security has years of weapons training, security training, and self-defense training."

"Lex-" Clark almost wailed in protest, but his millionaire friend overrode him.

"And not to mention that _you_'ve been trained what to do in an unsecured location, and that we _had_ worked out a series of subtle signals if something came up so you could have told me you found a camera-"

"Lex!"

"And backup," he snarled, "don't forget the backup- no one can be in two places at once.  And the proper technical support."

"Lex!  That's not the point!"

"Yes it is!" Lex snarled back.  "You're strong, I'll grant you- and fast- faster than anything else I've ever heard of- but that's not what's important!  What was important was that I put you in a situation that you weren't ready for!  All the strength and speed in the world isn't going to do you any good if you don't know what to do with it.  And I've been dragging you around behind me, pretending that your abilities, your powers were going to be enough- in any situation- because I didn't want to deal with being watched by my old security force.  Clark- if you want to assign blame to anyone but the… the… mad-man who decided he wanted to make his money killing people- your going to have to blame me."

Lex paused, breathing deep.  "I'm the one who got _Him_ angry, I'm the one who forgot what _He's_ capable of.  And I should have known.  He's spent years teaching me, I should have known."  Lex stepped back, face frozen.  "I should have known…" He turned, and with quick strides, left the room.

Jonathan stopped Clark from following.  "Son, you're both emotional right now.  Give it some time before you talk to him- I'll go speak with him, you talk to your mother."

////

Jonathan sighed as he politely knocked on Lex's room.  Life had certainly gotten more interesting since Lex Luthor entered their lives.  The old farmer almost chuckled- wasn't there an old Chinese curse about interesting times?  The young Luthor had certainly shaken things up since his sudden appearance into their lives.  And he was so different from his father- Jonathan still felt like he was wrapping his mind around that sometimes.  And sometimes, Jonathan felt that Lex was still wrapping his own mind around being different as well.

No one was answering the door.  "Lex?"  He knocked again, he knew the boy- young man, really, and Jonathan knew that- was in there.  "Lex, can I come in?"

"Not-" The muffled reply was choked off, and Jonathan sighed again, before pushing the door open.  Of course Lex didn't _think_ he wanted anyone to talk to- but he shouldn't be alone right now.

Lex was in there, sitting on the neatly made bed.  Looking at his hands folding in his lap. His lips were forming words, but there wasn't any sound.  Twin tear tracks splashed down his face.  Jonathan was frozen for half a breath before he walked forward, not daunted by the furious look Lex gave him as he approached.  A man didn't like to be interrupted when he was angry with himself.  Jonathan knew that.

He sat next to Lex, beside him on the bed.  Didn't touch him, didn't say anything while Lex tried to ignore him.  Waiting, thinking about the best thing to say.  Then- "I…" Jonathan began quietly, "don't know what to say.  Just this- it's not your fault.  You didn't hire the gunman, you didn't pay the money, and you didn't want it to happen."

"I should have guessed."  Lex hoarsely whispered.  "Should have predicted…"

Jonathan shook his head.  "Still doesn't make it your fault.  You didn't know it would happen, and no one can see the future."

Lex gulped air, obviously trying to pull himself together.  Jonathan continued.  "You can blame yourself for underestimating him- but… way I see it, that was the only mistake you made."

"Three dead, four still critical, ten more wounded. And that isn't my responsibility?  I don't have any of the blame?"

The older man sighed, slipping an arm around him and squeezing gently.  Lex flinched, then sighed, shoulders hunched.  "I won't lie to you Lex- you made a mistake, and if you turned your back on the other people who were in the Beanery, I'd be very disappointed.  But your not doing that- you're taking care of people.  You're trying to make things right.  Fixing things.  It's not really your fault, and you're still making it right."

Lex gave a strangled laugh.  "Yeah, tell that to the parents when they find out that it was a hit.  A hit on _ME_, and it failed, leaving their kid to be buried in the _ground_."

"Lex…"

The young man took a deep breath.  "I know."  He wiped his face, "I know.  But it doesn't make it easier."

"Of course not, son."

There was a sudden 'whump-whump-whump' of a helicopter outside, and the two men looked up.

Lex took a deep breath, "I… called Bruce.  Wayne Enterprises.  I… need more security."

Jonathan nodded.  "Of course.  I… need to talk to Martha.  And Clark."

////

Author's Notes:

Under the threat of pain of death, I finally got this out.


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40  
  
"Damn it! Clark's my friend- I'd like to talk with him!" Chloe growled in frustration, kicking at the dirt. The hot sun poured down on the dusty road outside of the Kent Farm revealing a strange scene of television station vans, camera crews, various cars, reporters, and the odd Smallville native, all waiting to see the young Clark Kent.  
  
"What, not on the guest list?" Danko quipped, brushing back his few stray hairs. Sweat was trickling down his face, and he knew he'd be sporting one heck of a burn tomorrow- there wasn't any shade out here on the road. He looked longingly at the trees surrounding the farmhouse. "Luthor's boys will never let us close, Sullivan. They've got the place locked up tight- they aren't letting anyone in- except the cops." Who had just left.  
  
"Phone's off the hook as well." Their photographer added, lifting up his cell. "Or just busy, everyone's probably tried it."  
  
"Well, this is worthless. Let's go back into town and get something to drink." Danko announced, wiping his face.  
  
The girl sighed, then turned. "You think Lex will go to work today? I could probably get us in to see my dad- he's just down the hall from Lex's office. Dad's working today, you know."  
  
Danko smiled, resentfully. "Yeah, let's visit your dad." Kid would probably pull another trick out of her hat- how come it had never been this easy for him? Overhead, they could hear helicopters.  
  
"Whoa!" Their photographer was clicking away as the three black birds came to rest out in the Kent fields. Black-clad men poured out, establishing a perimeter before another man dressed in a casual sweater and slacks casually got out, a high-heeled blond on his arm. "Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises!"  
  
"Wayne?" Danko asked, forehead furrowed in thought. "I didn't know they still talked."  
  
"Huh?" Chloe asked.  
  
Danko shrugged, "They went to school together- Bruce Wayne and Lex Luthor. They hung out briefly, but didn't stay friends." He gave the girl a little smile. "It always pays to make the time to learn the background on the big guns, girl. Gives you hints on what they might be doing." He nodded at all the security forces. "That's a lot of personal security. Wayne either thinks he's in an unsecured location, or he's trying to make a point." He watched for a while. "We'll stay here for now, see what's happening."  
  
////  
  
"There, there, baby." Martha soothed, wrapping her son in her arms again. They were sitting on the couch, and Clark wasn't crying anymore, but he was still sitting there with a blank look on his face. "There, there."  
  
"It's okay, mom." Clark whispered, "I just… I just need to… have a little time. Yeah."  
  
"I know honey, it's just hard." She whispered back. "You're so young- you shouldn't have to deal with this."  
  
Clark took a deep breath, and then let it out. "What's that?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"That noise- it sounds like… helicopters."  
  
Martha got up, walking to the kitchen window. And blinked. There, in her field, were three Wayne Enterprises helicopters. She remembered Lex had said that he had asked Bruce Wayne to send over a few men to help with security, but the helicopters on the field pouring out black-clad men with guns like an army deployment was a bit much. They scurried around like they were in a movie, taking positions, and then… some poster-child for the rich and beautiful stepped out of the left-most copter, walking towards the house with a beautiful blond hanging onto his arm.  
  
Martha shook her head. Lord, she didn't think Lex expected Bruce to come himself. And good grief- that poor girl was wearing heels! In a field- and Martha laughed as she turned to pick up the few coffee cups in the living room.  
  
"Mom?" It was Clark, and she turned to her boy. "What's going on?"  
  
Clark looked scared, and Martha wasn't surprised. Today had been hard on her little boy. "It's all right, Clark. Lex said he needed more security. He called Bruce Wayne, they know each other from way back. Apparently, Mr. Wayne brought quite a few people, and decided to make an appearance himself."  
  
"More security?" Clark swallowed.  
  
Martha dropped the cups in the sink before giving him a hug. "Lex and I talked this morning- while you were sleeping. He was thinking that he shouldn't be asking you to do all the work. You do have to go back to school in the fall, you know. Don't worry about it. You… did what you could last night, what you had to do. I love you, and they're here to help Lex- not watch us."  
  
"Oh…"  
  
The doorbell rang, and Martha went to get it.  
  
////  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
I know, I know, it's short. But my husband wants to update our operating system from Windows 2000 to XP, and I promised him I'd let him 'destroy' our computer tonight. So, might not be able to do my normal Sat. morning writing spree to fill this out, and wanted to get y'all what I could. Sorry.  
  
And to the reviewer who said they nearly didn't review 'cause I had plenty- Honey, you can NEVER have too many reviews! ( 


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41  
  
Bruce Wayne was convinced that the helicopter had taken a wrong turn back there somewhere, and they had ended up in the Twilight Zone. Quite frankly, he had helped Alexander Luthor get away from his father and break ties with the Luthor family name, not out of any feeling of friendship, but out of good business sense.  
  
So here he sat, the strange scene cut out of some television show about working-class America. Sitting on a worn couch that had been covered by an old handmade quilt. There were cheap knick-knacks on the plain wooden end tables, ten-dollar-a-canvas art on the walls, and a worn carpet under his feet. And behind him, in the kitchen, was the working-class wife, puttering around to get them snacks.  
  
There was even a barn outside, filled with farming equipment, and a farmer who was busy talking to Lex Luthor's head of security and the man Bruce had brought to head up the Wayne Enterprises team. A man who just might be staying here, with Lex as a LexCorp employee.  
  
Bruce reminded himself that LuthorCorp divided could only be good for Wayne Enterprises. Besides taking a chunk of smaller holdings with him, Lex kept Lionel's eyes away from the rest of the world. LuthorCorp divided could only be good for the environment. Lionel and his father were not well known for being good stewards of the lands they owned, and anything that slowed Lionel down was good for the land.  
  
And Lex? The pale, drawn man sitting on the couch across from him had never been a good friend at school. More like polite rivals. Lex was too much like his father, always looking for weaknesses and never really trusting anyone. Maybe he had trusted a few of his closest friends, but Bruce didn't really think so.  
  
But Martha Kent was busy serving them coffee, just straight, plain coffee with nothing in it. Farmer's coffee. There was powdered creamer and sugar in little plastic bowls on the table, and Lex had dosed his own cup without a second thought. His cup- he hadn't even expected Mrs. Kent to do it for him, and that didn't match up with the Lex Luthor Bruce knew. The Lex Luthor who had grown up with so many servants, it would be a surprise if he knew how to dress himself.  
  
But then again, the Lex Luthor Bruce knew would have never been living on a farm, an organic farm at that. Would never have chosen to break away from the money and power he had been given. Wouldn't be sitting next to a fifteen-year-old boy who was by all his information, Lex Luthor's best friend. And the old Lex Luthor would never have asked Bruce for his help.  
  
He still couldn't quite figure out why Lex had turned to him.  
  
Beside him, Kara Wrighly shifted. She smiled at Lex, who just gave her a brief nod before looking away. Strange, the old Lex never missed a pretty face. Even if Lex knew a girl was poison, he always wanted the best looking woman in the room on his arm.  
  
Bruce had brought her along for a distraction; it didn't seem to be working. Kara leaned forward, touching her coffee cup with one perfectly manicured hand. "It's so terrible, Mr. Luthor. It must have been awful."  
  
"Call me Lex." The bald man looked at her with a tightly shuttered face. "And yes, it was scary- but it was over very quickly."  
  
Bruce sighed, and put on his best 'appropriately concerned' face. He'd be more likely to get more information that way. And Bruce needed to know what was going on. Needed to know what Lionel Luthor was up to. "Yes, I had turned on the news after you called- it seems we have a young hero in our midst." He smiled at the kid, only to get an embarrassed shake of the head back. Interesting, the kid wasn't too impressed by what he did.  
  
Lex cleared his throat. "You brought a lot of security. I'm assuming your taking some of them back with you?"  
  
Wayne shrugged, "of course. You didn't specify how many you needed, or how long- I figured that you wouldn't need all of them permanently, and what are friends for?"  
  
Lex gave him a tired smile, "Thanks."  
  
"And I heard that you've sent up your doctors from Metropolis? The ones from your company? Do you need any more?"  
  
Lex shook his head, "No, not really- I mean, yes, I brought them up- Smallville's facilities weren't enough for this situation. But everything has been taken care of. The last of the… survivors got out of surgery this morning, and the local hospital has said that they're well staffed for the recovery periods."  
  
Bruce nodded, looking friendly. "Yes, I'm sure. However, if you want, we could send over some of our physical therapists from Gotham General. They've, unfortunately, had a lot more experience in rehabilitation from gunshot wounds."  
  
"That would be nice." Lex replied. "Could you have them coordinate with the hospital directly? I'll pay the expenses of their temporary living arrangements, of course."  
  
"No need," He brushed off the idea. Bruce wrinkled his nose, "and maybe you should get some sleep- you look terrible."  
  
"Thanks." Luthor snorted, gulping his coffee. "No time."  
  
Bruce laughed, "You're still skipping sleep and running the crowd, aren't you Lex? I saw the media horde outside."  
  
Surprisingly, Lex winced. "I've grown up a bit since then, Bruce. And I've got a ton of work I have to do before tonight. We've decided to do a Press Conference tonight. I hate to blow you off after coming down all this way, but I really don't have time to reminisce about old times."  
  
Bruce sighed. "I understand. But," he leaned forward, setting down his cup; "I'd like to talk to you awhile about what's really going on down here."  
  
Lex glanced at Kara, and then glanced back at Bruce, raising an eyebrow. Bruce glanced at the kid and back at Lex, raising his eyebrow. "Clark," Lex said, "why don't you show Kara around?"  
  
"Uh, okay."  
  
They waited till the two left- Kara borrowing a pair of Martha's tennis shoes to walk around the yard in. Lex was leaning back, obviously exhausted.  
  
"You look like you've been on a three-day bender." Wayne quipped.  
  
"Nothing so easy." Lex replied, and as the front door shut, he continued, "I don't really know more than I told you on the phone. Black Hope was the gunman- I was the only one in the Beanery that could have been a target. The cops- or the Feds, they've been brought in- don't know who hired him. They've asked me who would want me dead, I gave them a list."  
  
"And?" Bruce picked up his cup, sipping at the surprisingly good brew. "Have your men found out anything?"  
  
Lex sighed. "I've got the local cops well in hand- I know I'll have full access to their records. I'm not so sure about the Feds. I don't think they'll let my men onto the site."  
  
"Legally, anyway." Bruce gave an easy laugh, "I remember your exploits in school, Lex. What was it about the Dean's desk and his daughter?"  
  
The bald millionaire gave a tight smile. "It was a bet, Bruce. You know I don't like loosing."  
  
"Neither does your father." Bruce gave him a pointed look. "Thought of anyone else?"  
  
"No." Lex paused. "Black Hope was expensive. Father liked his flare for the overly dramatic- otherwise, he wasn't worth it."  
  
"What do you think he'll do next?"  
  
"Nothing overt- I hope. I'm not prepared. I wasn't prepared for this Bruce. You know that." Lex gave him an unreadable look. "He's most unpredictable when he's surprised. I don't think he thought this was going to fail."  
  
Bruce nodded. "Of course not. You're lucky your friend managed to get you to safety. How'd that work, anyway?"  
  
"He knocked me down." Lex replied. Then added- "And what are you going to do about this situation?"  
  
"Haven't decided yet."  
  
Lex Luthor blinked, looking a little tense. "I've been open with you Bruce- I would appreciate the same honesty."  
  
Wayne sighed, brushing his hair back. "I've stopped my slow sell-off of LuthorCorp stock. It's going to take another beating once the news gets out about the attempted hit and the rumors start flying about who hired him."  
  
"Sell-off? I thought you'd like to keep ties on LuthorCorp."  
  
"You two are at war. Things- countries or companies- at war are never good long-term investments, Lex. You should know that."  
  
"Wars are a quick way to make money." Lex shrugged.  
  
Bruce nodded, Lionel had taught him, after all. "Yes- but you might want to sell yours, eventually, as well."  
  
"I'll think about it. Anything else?"  
  
Bruce quirked. "I really haven't decided yet."  
  
////  
  
Circles- they talked in circles for far too long in Lex's opinion. Bruce was obviously leaving his options open, but probably wouldn't tell Lex when he made his decision on which way to go. Lex had been open with him- no reason not to, he would too easily be a dead man without the added security, and they would no doubt return every thread of information back to their original employer.  
  
And no reason to insult or alienate the head of Wayne Enterprises. LexCorp and Wayne Enterprises where not in head-to- head competition in any field right now, no reason not to build at least temporary alliances.  
  
But there were other things to take care of, and as Wayne's helicopters pulled themselves from the Kent fields (leaving fully half of his men behind), Lex dialed his phone.  
  
"Sarge here."  
  
"Sergeant Jackson, it's Lex."  
  
"Good to hear from you sir. How's the kid holding up?"  
  
"Clark? Doing better, we just have to pound it into his head some more that he did the best he could- he's not happy about killing that guy, even if the man was scum and it was an accident."  
  
The cop snorted. "I'll talk to him in a few days, when this calms down a bit. You calling about the Press Conference this evening? You're not coming are you?"  
  
"Sarge, I need to be there." Not that he wanted to be there, but still.  
  
"It's not a good idea, they'll eat you alive-" The cop obviously knew nothing about PR, and how it would look if he didn't attend.  
  
"I know. And please, I don't trust the phones right now- there are too many well-equipped media types on the front lawn. But I would like to talk to the families of all the victims immediately before the Press Conference. Can that be arranged?"  
  
"Hell- I don't know. Those damn Feds think we should keep a lid on what we know till someone finds out. But I'm with you- it would look bad if we did that, and they can't stop us. I'll do what I can. Try for six-thirty? Give us a half hour."  
  
Lex nodded, wishing the Sergeant could be a little more vague. Every reporter in the state would know something big was going to be announced tonight. "Six-thirty for us to meet them- but I'd like my men to go over the room for monitoring devices and to set up some security measures for at least two hours before then. And help provide security during the conference."  
  
"That's a good idea. Don't want anyone getting the scoop early. Give you a call?"  
  
"Please."  
  
////  
  
"Bruce left half of his security behind." Danko muttered, watching the last helicopter pull up.  
  
"Yeah," their photographer spoke up, "and the official time for the Press Conference has been released- it's at 7:00pm tonight, but we have to pre- register, and they're only allowing two people into the room per agency."  
  
"Two?" Chloe perked up.  
  
Danko frowned. "Yeah, and that will have to be me and Snaps here. They never call on the kids."  
  
"But Lex-"  
  
"Won't take questions tonight, girl. You know that. And he's not going to come out of there either." Danko motioned at the farmhouse. "But- we'll get you over to daddy's office and see who we can run into. Probably some LexCorp PR man will give us a nice quote, and we'll get your dad to leave Lex a message. The big man will want a friendly reporter to lead by the nose, and you'll do. And the sound bites will sell papers."  
  
Chloe wrinkled her nose, getting into the car in a sulk. Danko could care less- the girl would have to learn that her 'interviews' wouldn't always be looked upon as hard-edge reporting.  
  
And maybe it would tick her off enough to ask the hard questions.  
  
////  
  
Lex sat at the table, trying not to look like he hadn't gotten enough sleep. Trying not to look like he was running on empty. He knew he was failing, and he didn't care. Looking a little worn right now was probably good. God, he probably needed to hire a personal PR agent- he'd been running on instinct so far, his father had drilled it into his brain since he was little.  
  
But… well. Parents and family were looking at him, all sitting down in the cramped little room. The head of Smallville's police force had just gently told them what had happened at the Beanery.  
  
"Wait a minute!" One man had jumped up, angry, "You mean to tell me, tell us- that the gunman wasn't some crazed-"  
  
Lex stood up, the man stopped cold. Lex looked up, looked at all of them. "Yes." Lex said, loudly. "Exactly. And… I would NEVER have been there- out in public- if I had even the slightest inkling that something like this would have happened. NEVER." He paused, and then continued, "I've been trying to start over here, trying to do it different-" Lex took a deep breath. "I had every reason to think it was working. That… I had no… list of people in the world that would go so far… would… who would…" Lex shook his head in frustration. "Didn't know." He mumbled, and sat down hard.  
  
Beside him, standing behind the podium, Sarge cleared his throat. "We can assure you that our investigation has revealed that this was a completely surprise attack. He had not received any death-threats before the incident, his security forces had not found anything alarming to warn of this… attack."  
  
"What are you going to do?" Someone asked.  
  
Sarge replied, "the federal government is going to conduct the investigation for the hitman's employer."  
  
"No- what are you going to do, Lex Luthor?" The person snapped back.  
  
Lex lifted his head, knowing he was looking determined and sounded as cold as the Luthor he was, "I'm going to everything in my power to aid the investigation. I've offered up the resources of my security forces- including the additional manpower I've 'borrowed' from Wayne Enterprises as a personal favor from Bruce Wayne. And when we find the employer-" Lex let himself give an icy smile, and continued on in a tone that let everyone know he didn't mean a word he was saying; "I will let the proper authorities deal with the individual in the fair, proper, and legal manner directed by the United States legal system."  
  
"W-what do you mean?"  
  
Apparently his hint wasn't strong enough for a bunch of people in shock. "I mean," Lex let himself smile a bitter grin, even as he could feel the rage burning from his eyes, "I have no intension of becoming a vigilante, or taking my own justice on the guilty parties. I will let the proper people deal with the criminals."  
  
He must look frightening, Lex absently noted, because several people gulped, and even the Sergeant looked nervous, almost stuttering as he added, "And we appreciate Lex Luthor's support. And we're sorry- but we need to move onto the public press conference."  
  
////  
  
Lionel sipped at his wine, watching the evening news. Jessica watched the colors from the television set flicker over his face in the darkened room as she held little Kattie Ann. The baby gurgled quietly, oblivious to the tenseness in her mother's arms.  
  
'The local police have just announced that the gunman in the Smallville massacre was none other than 'Black Hope' an international hitman- no doubt aiming for Lex Luthor, the recently disowned heir of LuthorCorp-' Lionel flinched, fingers dancing over the remote, but not changing the channel. '- Of course, with the gunman dead at the scene, leads on who, exactly, could have hired 'Black Hope' are sketchy. Police are not forthcoming about possible leads on the employer of the gunman. Back to you, Mike.'  
  
The anchorman sounded professionally concerned, 'That's a terrible tragedy, Joe. Any word on any of the victims still under critical condition?'  
  
'The good news is that two of the four still in critical condition this morning have been recently taken off the list and downgraded to 'stable'. Of the two still in danger- one name and condition hasn't been released- they're still trying to contact the family- the other is Whitney Fordman, the high-school star quarterback who was going to Kansas State in the fall to play on full scholarship. He suffered four gunshot wounds- two in the chest, one in the leg, and a minor one in one arm. Just slightly grazed. However, his right lung was punctured, and the doctors don't want to take him off the critical list till morning.'  
  
'One of our up-and-coming K-State quarterbacks? That's horrible.'  
  
Jessica watched Lionel, who was watching the television. He turned it off when they finished talking about Smallville. He looked at her, and then walked out without a word. She didn't like it. Lionel's actions… she didn't like it.  
  
////  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Life has truly bitten the big one lately- I got laid off, so I've been job hunting. And being jobless really killed the creative spirit in me for a while, but I got back up on the horse. So hey- hope you like this. 


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42  
  
Lex stalked down the corridor of the executive wing of LexCorp Plant No. 3 in Smallville flanked by his old and new security officers. Today had not been the best day. The Press had tried to eat him alive- he was sure that half the nation would think the whole thing was his fault. Not to mention that the victim's families would be set upon by unscrupulous lawyers and tempted with big cash payoffs in a lawsuit.  
  
But he'd be damned if he let some lawyer paid by his father steal a red cent-  
  
"Hello Lex!"  
  
He stopped cold, turning to see Chloe Sullivan sitting in her father's office.  
  
"How. did you get in here?" He asked.  
  
Chloe humpfed. "Good to see you too." She shrugged. "Dad works here. They let me in- he's down the hall in some meeting with the PR guy." She gave him her best smile.  
  
"Ah." Lex nodded. He noticed that only his old security seemed tense. "How's the internship at the Daily Planet going?" Wayne's men tensed satisfyingly. Their employer just got cornered by someone in the media- they should be nervous.  
  
"Okay- this happened, and they rushed me over." She held up her pen, giving it a shake, "Friendly pen if you need it."  
  
Lex gave her a tight smile. "It's been a. bad day. Chloe."  
  
"Yeah." She frowned. "Heard about it on the news, tonight." She pulsed her lips. "And how's Clark? Heard he saved the day again."  
  
"Of course he did." Lex nodded. Then took a deep breath. "I. I'll be able to talk to you tonight- but there are a thousand things I really need to do first- can you be ready in an hour?" He wouldn't be able to avoid the media forever, and Chloe was still the best one to talk to. Too young to notice if he led her around.  
  
She brightened predictably. "Sure!"  
  
Good, maybe he could run some thoughts past his PR man here at the plant first. He needed someone outside the event to help him spin this. He felt too close to everything to see it properly.  
  
////  
  
The office breakroom for the executive wing of the Smallville plant wasn't that opulent- just pale beige walls with tasteful paintings by unknown artists, casual if clean furniture, and thick carpet. Lex sat in a thickly padded leather chair across the table from Chloe Sullivan, her father sitting next to Lex. Her father being here was nothing but a gentle reminder that she needed to tread carefully. More to remind her supervisor- the gruff reporter that had met up with her just a half hour ago wasn't happy that Lex didn't want to be grilled right now, and that Lex had asked Chloe to run the interview. Their photographer had already snapped a few pictures, smiling shyly and thanking 'Mr. Lex Luthor' as he quickly worked.  
  
"Ms. Sullivan- it wouldn't matter if I had brought the best security team in the country out that night. Even if they had been armed, or even knew an attack was coming. The simple facts is that if you know that people have an interest in seeing you dead, and are willing to pay for it, you can't go out in public. Putting someone in public to 'draw out the killer' is reserved for bad movies. Not to put myself on the same level as him, but there is a reason the President of the United States never goes out in public without a thousand security officers; the situation is too hard to control. Too easy for mistakes to happen, and for the 'target' to end up dead. I don't plan on being in that situation again." Lex sipped his whiskey laced coffee- good thing he hid a stash in his office.  
  
"So you had no idea?" Chloe had carefully placed her tape recorder on the table between them, and now she watched him with wide, curious eyes while her supervisor and the photographer sitting off to one side watched.  
  
"No. Not really. There had been threats before. before my split with my father, Lionel Luthor. The vast majority of those were related to my father's business and did not appear to follow me once I had. left. Apparently," Lex growled, "we were wrong."  
  
"So this. attack. was out of the blue?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Did you have any idea who might have been behind it?"  
  
Lex winced. "I've given a list to the Federal Agents and the Smallville police in regards to who. might. wish me dead. I'm cooperating fully with the authorities, and they've asked me not to share that knowledge with anyone outside of the investigation."  
  
"Oh." Chloe paused, then silently mouthed 'your father?'  
  
Lex winced again, turning away. He nodded, once, noticing Chloe's sharp intake of breath. He looked up and quickly caught her gaze before she could say anything. "There are, of course, some people more likely than others. However, it's all speculation- and there are liability issues for slander if I reveal any of the suspects, so I can't give you any more information on that." Beside him, Mr. Sullivan shifted. And so did the other reporters- too bad they couldn't see what Chloe had asked.  
  
"Ah. and on a different track- what measures are you taking in your security to insure your personal safety?"  
  
"Not going out anymore- I've moved up the schedule on my new residence, which is loosely adjacent to my corporate property so that I can be safely isolated from the world." Lex couldn't help sounding a little bitter about that. It had been fun to talk to normal people. "I've tripled my personal security force- and as you noticed, I've taken those men from Wayne Enterprises. As a personal favor to me, Bruce Wayne has provided the additional men. Some of them are temporary, but others will be more permanent."  
  
"Anything else?"  
  
"There will be some changes here at the plant, and I'll change procedures when I travel. Otherwise, no." Of course, Lex mused, that included just about everything in his life, but he wanted to downplay how drastically everything was going to alter.  
  
Chloe asked a few more questions before Lex nudged her into wrapping up the interview.  
  
////  
  
Lex sat on the edge of his bed in his room on the Kent farm. He rubbed his forehead, glancing up at Clark who was sitting on the floor, back to the door. The room was dark, the only illumination the moonlight through the window.  
  
"Chloe was at the plant." Lex whispered.  
  
"Really?" Clark asked, obviously pushing himself to appear happy.  
  
"She set upon me like a shark," Lex growled. "Give her three weeks as an intern, and she's turning into another media hound."  
  
"Chloe?" Clark sounded surprised.  
  
Lex shook his head. "I'm probably over-reacting. But. we're going to have to be careful around her, Clark. She. isn't. safe anymore."  
  
"Lex- that's crazy."  
  
Lex swallowed, wishing there was a nicer way to say this. "She's a reporter now, Clark. You know she always chased down stories. No one ever listened, but. she's got connections now. We'll have to be careful. She'd likely take anything she found straight to the front page of the Daily Planet."  
  
"Oh." He looked chest fallen, but Clark would remember. Lex knew that Clark was good at keeping secrets.  
  
Lex sighed. "Tomorrow. I'd like to be able to take another look at your ship. Things are a little unsettled right now- but I need to evaluate what resources we're going to need to study it. I can't wait too long," Lex twisted his lips into a little smile, "time is money."  
  
////  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Well, if this isn't just grand- fanfiction.net is seemingly on permanent sabbatical. Grrr..  
  
Ah well, see if I can't post this elsewhere. 


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

"Sir."  Ranovich nodded into the phone, casually looking over the display of gas-station snacks and candy at the blond girl pulling a drink from the refrigerated cabinets lining one wall.  The harsh lights of the store made both of them look more tired than they really were.

"I assume," the voice was acid, "that since you are calling me at two in the morning that something important has happened."

Danko sneered, he had been doing this job longer than the man on the line.  Worked for this man's boss's father in fact.  He wouldn't call in for no reason.  "Seems young Lex Luthor has told the police that Lionel Luthor was the most likely candidate for hiring the gunman.  And he hinted as much to his pet reporter.  Seems he's trying to frame daddy for the blame of the fiasco."

There was silence on the other end.  "What exactly did he say?"

Danko grunted, watching Chloe walk her bottled Starbucks Frapachino to the counter.  "Nothing.  I think he signaled something to Chloe Sullivan- she said as much once we got in the car.  But she wouldn't say anything after I asked, claiming that it wasn't really reporting without proof anyway.  Mentioned libel." 

"Ah.  I'll call you in the morning with instructions."

"Good."  Danko hung up.  Walked over to his young charge.  "Ready to go?"

"Yeah.  Don't see why we can't stay in Smallville.  More stuff happening."

"Nothing likely to happen here for another twenty-four hours.  We're getting replaced, Perry seems to think that some of the parents whose kids are at the hospitals in Metropollis will let you in to talk to them- they won't let the other reporters in."

He had obviously stroked her ego- she lit up with a big smile and with a "Well then, let's go!" and swept out of the convenience store.

////

Clark watched Lex circle his ship again, the pale fingertips of his friend brushing the smooth craft.  He could feel the dust settling on the both of them, smell the dampness in the air, and hear the humming of the lights above.  Clark couldn't help but wonder when Lex would figure it out.

"How does it open?"  Lex's voice echoed in the large room.

"I dunno."  Clark replied.  Glanced at the stairwell they had come down.  Getting rid of the security team had been annoying.  Wayne's crew had been stubborn, and had insisted on doing a sweep through the cavern before retreating upstairs.  They hadn't looked at the pile of rubbish Clark had ripped away once they left.

Lex was fingering a spot right behind the canopy.  "I think this is a button- could you come and push it?" Lex called, muttering, "Maybe it's jammed."  

"I'm not going to push it too hard," Clark replied as he stepped up, "I don't want to break it.  Maybe I could look through the surface or something."  Clark looked at it, seeing the narrow oval bump in the ship's hull.  It was about as big as his thumbprint and seamless, just a slight alteration in the smooth surface.  Even the junction between what they assumed to be the canopy and the ship's hull was seamless, only a change in light gray to dark gray gave it away.  "Strange, I can't see through it- not with X-ray vision.  It… gets all wavy, right under the surface…"

Clark ran his fingers over the bump, rubbing it slightly.  

The ship flared with yellow light, the canopy glowing brightly before it apparently melted into the sides of the ship, revealing the interior.  Behind him, Lex swallowed nervously.  Morphing metal?  Just for a door?  He had never even heard of technology on that level.  On Earth anyway- but he had heard of it plenty of times in movies.

"Nice security system."  He breathed, and then added in a shaky voice, "You're an alien… aren't you?"  Lex was gazing into the ship.  The inside looked like a round padded crib set in a large metal bowl.  The cushions were a soft satin-like white, and the metal bowl around them seemed to be about as thick as a human thumb.  There was spidery writing around the bowl, thin raised letters in an unknown script.  Lex reached shaking fingers out to trace the delicate writing along the edge of the 'bed'.

Clark gave Lex a flat look, shrugged.  "I guess."

"You GUESS?"  Lex squeaked.  "But-" He stuttered to a stop.  It was too much to argue.

Clark sighed.  "I really don't know for sure, Lex.  I could be an alien, an alien-human hybrid made for some strange purpose, a bio-engineered human baby from the future sent here on accident, or… I don't know.  I didn't come with a manual."  Clark paused, then muttered, "or at least, I can't read the language, so what does it matter?" 

Lex was looking back and forth between the ship and Clark, head swinging up to glare at the younger… well, maybe not a human, but still a younger man.  "Manual?  You have a book?  Clark- what does it say?  How much text does it have?  Pictures?  Maybe we can work out a translation matrix.  Or maybe this ship has a data-core with a translation program.  The people that sent you had to know something about this planet, right?  Probably monitoring our radio transmissions already."  Lex scrunched up his face.  "Perhaps we could contact them.  Or maybe we're not supposed to- we'll have to translate it.  How big is the manual?"

Clark sighed, making a box with his hands.  "About this big.  I've poked at it, it doesn't turn on.  It's just a box with some writing on it, maybe it's the data core.  It may not be a book or a data core or anything.  I don't know."  Clark stepped to the edge next to Lex, looking into the ship.  Lex looked over at him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"We'll find out."

The young man looked surprisingly pensive as he ran fingers over the inside of the ship.  "I… guess we will.  I…" He took a deep breath.  "I- Sometimes, well, what if it's something bad? I mean-"

"Bad?"  Lex distractedly asked, absently plucking at the cushions.  

"Yeah."  Clark gusted out a heavy sigh.  "Yeah- what if I came here, and… the reason's _bad_?"

Lex gave Clark a glare.  "Something you not telling me?"

"What?  No!  It's just that… I DON"T _know_.  You know?  I don't remember- I mean, I don't remember anything before, I don't remember the ship, I don't remember the landing- heck, I don't even remember the first time I saw my parents.  I mean, my… adoptive parents.  Mom and Dad.  Kent.  I don't remember anything." Clark was waving around, his face a study of confusion.  "Just growing up, here.  I knew I was different, but I didn't even know, didn't remember, about the ship until they told me.  I mean…  I don't know.  Why I'm here.  Why anything.  Why I'm different.  And…" Clark gulped, asking in a small voice, "what if it's _bad_?"

Lex shook his head.  "You're the only one I know who'd be horrified to learn that they were put on this Earth to rule the world."  The young Luthor laughed at the look of terror that had plastered itself across Clark's face.  "Don't worry, I'll make all the decisions for you."  Lex leaned over, pointing at a small gap between the metal 'bowl' and the sides of the ship.  "There's more buttons down there.  Four of them.  You want to do the honors?" 

The dark-haired alien took a deep breath.  "Uh, yeah.  Stand behind me."

"I want to observe."  The scientist in Lex crossed his arms over his chest.

Clark copied the move.  "What if I set off the ignition?"

Lex moved back.  "I'll stand right here.  You'll get me out of here if it goes off, right?"

"Of course."  Clark leaned forward, Lex following.  "Lex, stand back, okay?  And relax- if I have to move you, it's better if you're not tense."

The bald millionaire playboy 'humpfed', shuffling back half a step.  "Easy for you to say."

"Ready?"

"Yes."

"One, two, three."  Clark pushed a button.  And waited.  "Uh, I don't see any changes.  Or anything.  I'm going to hit the next one."

"Wait a minute.  Just in case."  Lex muttered back.

"Okay."  Clark replied.  "Uh, how about them Crows?  The new coach asked me if I'd be trying out for the team this fall.  Said he give me an another chance.  But I don't know if I should.  It didn't work out too well last time."

Behind him, Lex shook his head.  "Bad idea.  You'll be too busy with LexCorp, the farm, and school."

"Yeah.  Figured.  You're not going to let that go, are you?  Me working with you.  Want to try another one?"

"Which one was the first?"

"Closest one.  I'm going to go in order- they're in a line."

"Very well.  That was number one.  Try number two.  And no, you're not getting out of working with me."

"Well, maybe this will blow up, and I'll be off the hook.  One, two, three."  Clark pushed the next raised bump of a button.

The two of them tensed, then Lex struck a casual pose.  "That's great.  Nothing."  Lex grumbled.  "The damn thing's broken."

"No."  Clark hissed back, "It's vibrating.  Humming.  The ship- I can feel it."

Lex leaned forward again, only to jump back.  The ship… for lack of a better word, was unfolding.  The back end had stretched wider, the insides folding, flowing, and morphing outward out the back.  Gray metal and darker pipes in vibrant colors were twisting and turning into a larger frame; pipes, tubes and indescribable curved lumps fleshing out a bigger shape, the original ship becoming nothing more than the nose of a much larger craft.  Everything was moving, twisting like ropes floating in water. Then a golden light rippled out from the original ship shape before the whole thing solidified into a giant spear that filled almost a quarter of Level III.

And the vast room was still.

////

The hospital corridor was quiet after-midnight.  It was a typical hospital hallway with pale beige walls, blue trim and blue carpet.  Chloe followed Danko and Snaps down the hallway, only the noises of the nurses talking to each other behind their desk intruding on the silence.

"Hey!  You!"  Chloe turned, only to see a uniformed security officer briskly walking towards them.  "You're not allowed in here after hours.  The hospital has regulations against the media in here after regular visiting hours-"

Chloe stepped forward, smiling perkily.  "I know.  I know.  But I'm from Smallville- I go to school with Whitney Fordman- and I just wanted to say 'hello' to his family, give them my best wishes, sit with them awhile…"

The security man glared.  "Oh, and what's with the cameras?  You expect me to believe that?"

Chloe rolled her eyes.  "I've got a summer internship at the Planet, okay?  If they need to stay back, they can go- but I really wanted to see my friends.  Or at least their families…"

The man glared, and Chloe noticed Danko and Snaps giving her dirty looks.  She ignored them.  Asked the uniformed man, "Please?  You could ask them if they know me- I'm the editor of the school paper- they know me."  She smiled again.

The officer obviously relented.  "Okay.  Follow me.  But your friends can ask them any questions, okay?  The parents are exhausted, and…" He turned, motioning for Chloe to follow him.

Chloe trooped after, barely paying attention to Ranovich's mutterings.  "Girl, don't be so quick to ditch us."

"He was going to throw us out."  Chloe whispered back, refusing to look at the older reporter.  "Better one of us than none of us."

////

Jessica curled up on the shower floor, the hot water pouring over her.  She felt so… dirty.  Lionel wasn't leaving her alone.  He was her husband- making love to him shouldn't feel so… wrong.

Katty Ann was crying in the next room, and Jessica forced herself to her feet.  She didn't want the baby to wake Lionel, he'd insist on getting the nurse to start spending the night- and then Jessica would have less time with her baby.

And more time with Lionel.

////

Lex sat on his bed upstairs at the Kent Farm.  He toed off his shoes, absently taking off his shirt to drop it into the laundry basket.  He took a deep breath, still staring blankly at the wall in front of him.  It was almost dawn.  They had investigated the four buttons at length.  The first 'closed' the ship.  The second 'opened' it.  The third and forth opened and closed a small port with a small socket inside- Lex assumed it was for a computer cable hookup.  

He glanced at the closed door before taking off his pants and climbing under the sheets.  Pulled them up to his chin.  Closed his eyes, trying to force himself to sleep.

'_Greatest discovery of mankind._' He whispered in his mind, afraid to say the words out loud.  Someone might hear.  '_Greatest discovery of mankind.  More than the wheel, more than fire.  More than the combustion engine._' Lex reasoned, debated with himself, '_any cave man with half a mind could have invented either.  It was time, humanity was ready.  But this… this is more than we could have invented for ourselves.  This is a shortcut, a cheat-sheet of advanced physics and sciences.  Reverse engineering, and we'll discover the secrets of the universe.  Humanity can propel itself ahead a millennium in a hundred years with this.  Or maybe two thousand years.  Maybe three._'

_'And it's mine.'_

_'To discover, to study, to develop.  And with all that knowledge, to lead humanity forward.  To…'_ Lex sat up, eyes wide, gasping from breath.

_'**Rule the world.**'_

Lex shuttered, mind racing.  _'Make a lot of money- more money than I can even dream of, which is much more than most people can even think of and- I'll control- LexCorp- will control every patient worth anything for the next thirty years.  If not longer.  Even if I don't make the products, I'll still get a cut of the profits.  On everything.  Everything, every last thing made on this planet will eventually… be under my control.'_

Lex gulped, legs swinging out of his bed.  He started to stand, then sat heavily.

'And I can barely move- my father has me hiding under rocks.  I can't meet him head to head.  If I let him know I have something- Something this big.'

'_He'll steal it.  And I'll be left with nothing._'

'_Nothing._'

'_And he'll make money… and bombs… and… everything Clark and Jonathan and Martha are so scarred of._'

Lex sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.  '_What am I going to do?  How am I going to get the protection I need?_'


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter 44

Rain splattered over the gravel on the drive of the Kent Farm, turning the white stones gray.  Thunder rolled and the wind gusted as Clark and his father man-handled the replacement parts for the generator into the barn.  Clark was taking most of the weight, but it helped to have his father guide the large heavy equipment around the corners.

"Ugh.  I'm soaked through."  Clark complained, feet squishing in the mud.  He shook his head like a dog, flinging water off his hair.

Jonathan just grunted, giving the large shaped metal hull one last shove before telling Clark to set it down.  

"Well, that's about it."  Jonathan said, wiping the rainwater from his brow.  "You think we can get started tonight?"

"Dunno, dad."  Clark replied, looking around.  "Gets dark early when it's raining.  More light tomorrow.  And… those guys Bruce Wayne sent over?"

Jonathan glanced around.  "Yes son?"

Clark sighed, "they're sharper than Lex's men.  I wanna look around some tonight."

"Ah.  Seen them doing anything?"

"No.  But… can't be too careful."

"True."  Jonathan nodded.  Then he casually asked, "how's Lex holding up?  About what you talked about last week?"

Clark was nodding his head as he leaned against the generator in the barn.  His father was talking about how he and Lex had looked at his ship a few days ago.  "Seems okay.  He's not freaking out or anything, about that anyway.  Mostly worried about the press and the shooting.  He keeps saying that the axe will fall and the media is going to turn against him."

The older man grimaced, looking out through the barn doors at the rain.  "He's probably right, son.  They held the first funeral yesterday.  There's going to be a few more, and everyone's going to want someone to blame.  If the cops can't find the shooter's employer, they might have a witch hunt for Lex."

"But dad…"

Jonathan looked sad.  "People are hurting, Clark.  Some of them have lost children.  It's a hard blow, son.  Everyone grieves different, and some of them are going to be angry.  Very angry.  It's not his fault that children are dead, but he did make a mistake.  They'll want to make him pay."

////

The pixie sized blond threaded her way through the chaos that was the main newsroom at the Daily Planet.  The roar was mild today- Perry was yelling at one of his reporter about not following up on some questions to the city's mayor about the new sanitation bond measure that was going up for vote in the fall, three veterans were arguing about the President's latest comments on foreign policy, and the society page gossip columnists were gushing about the latest gala held last night.  

Chloe smiled to herself as she clutched her favorite coffee cup to her chest as she wandered back to the kitchen area to refill her cup.  This was what she lived for, what she always dreamed of, and it was happening.  She was part of the buzz.

This summer rocked.

She stepped into the small room, headed straight for the large coffee machine.  Of course the thing was huge- news media was a twenty-four hour job.  Two tiered, with six burners and automatic water feed, Chloe hadn't ever seen one quite so large.  But hey- everything was bigger in the city.  It was like coming home.  Better than coming home.

She tilted each pot in turn.  "Damn."  Of course they were empty- no one liked making coffee.  Sighing, she turned back to the cabinets to fetch fresh coffee beans.

"Better get used to that."

Chloe turned, glaring at the tall, rail thin fiery red-headed college boy leaning against the doorframe.  She rolled her eyes and dumped the used coffee before automatically adding the filter to the basket and measuring out the beans into the grinder.  The noise nearly drowned out the newsroom noise.  "Of course Billy, I've figured out by now that no one here remembers to make new coffee.  I'm surprised they don't just hire someone, the way we go through this stuff."

He laughed, and it wasn't a pretty sound.  "No, I mean you making the coffee, kiddo.  About all you're good for."

"Oh please, copyboy."  Chloe grunted.  Billy was a real Jerk.  She'd use more colorful language, but it was unprofessional and Perry didn't like it.  The jerk had even asked her to fetch him an extra pencil once, like she was some sort of lackey.  She dumped the grinds into the basket and slid it into the slot.

"Seriously, do you even read your own work?  Maybe the Inquisitor would call it real journalism, but here at the Daily Planet it's not."

"Strange how it made the front page."  Chloe airily replied as she hit the start button on the coffee machine.  Okay, well, Danko was listed as first author and she was just noted as the assistant, but…  "Maybe you are the one who needs to work on it.  Aren't you graduating this December?  With your college degree?  You even made the front section yet?"  Billy had, but he had never gotten even a mention on the first page.

He sneered at her.  "Listen, b- wench.  Everyone knows that Perry is just using you to get to Lex Luthor and to milk the Smallville families.  That doesn't make you a journalist.  You're just a cute little face for us who needs to be run around by the hand."

Chloe sighed.  It wasn't like she hadn't thought about this.  But she'd be damned if she'd let Billy get to her.  "Still gotten farther than you.  My first year here, copyboy."  She filled her cup and smiled.  "Good thing you've got red hair- that green matches."

She swept past him, gritting her teeth into a smile.  Damn it, Billy wasn't going to ruin her mood. 

////

Beige walls, tan carpet, and hotel-style maroon accents all topped off with cheerfully uniformed nurses and the sick smell of disinfectant.  Lex was beginning to hate hospitals.  He hated Metropolis more- it wasn't his city (yet, anyway) and he kept expecting Lionel to jump out of a dark corner and surprise him.  Or someone else, with a gun.  He still wasn't used to the two armed guards flanking each side of him.  

Hopefully this visit would be a short one.  He stopped at the nurse's kiosk and politely cleared his throat.  The nurse glanced up at him in irritation, but her expression quickly bloomed into a polite façade as soon as she recognized him.

"May I help you sir?"

"Yes.  I wanted to speak with the physical therapy team that came in from Gotham.  Are they available?"

"Two of them are at lunch, sir.  But Dr. Cokesburg is with a patient.  Would you like to wait?"

Lex shook his head.  "I don't really have time- I have a three-thirty to catch, and I really just need to ask if the arrangements to move him and his colleagues to Smallville are going smoothly.  I'd like to see him now."

The nurse nodded.  "Yes sir.  I can show you the room he's in just a minute.  Mary will be back here in a moment- I can't leave the station unattended.  Or," she pointed down the hallway, "He's in room 312, if you want to go yourself."

Lex smiled, "I think I can handle that.  Thank you for your help."  Lex turned and walked off, one guard behind him while the other trotted ahead.  Lex frowned.  This was ludicrous, he should have just called, but he wanted the personal touch.  

Three-twelve was a plain room, one of the Smallville victims safely hidden behind the white coat of the doctor who was calmly asking his patient questions as he made notations on his clipboard.  Lex winced, he hadn't really wanted to meet anyone from the Beanery.

"And what could you leg-press?"  The doctor continued, ignoring the people who had entered the room.

"Did two-fifty reps, don't remember my max.  Coach would know- he kept records."  Lex almost sighed, this got better and better.  Whitney Fordman, the one man he really didn't want to talk to right now. 

"Mind if I call him?"

"Yeah, sure."  The figure on the bed tiredly answered, shifted around, and called out, "dad?"

Lex sighed, "No.  I haven't seen him."

"Lex?"  Whitney asked, and the doctor turned.

"Mr. Luthor," the doctor covered his surprise, "I didn't know it was you."

Lex plastered a calm look over his face, it was getting easier every day.  "It's all right.  I just wanted to see if the plans for your temporary relocation to Smallville were going well."

"Fine, sir."

"Good."  Lex replied.  "Now, I have a flight, so I'll be off-" He turned to the teen, "you're looking better, Whitney."  Which was true- last time he had seen the teen he had been bleeding from multiple gunshot wounds and was being loading into the back of a care-flight helicopter.  But the young man still looked sick with his sheet-white face, IV in his arm, and oxygen hose running to his nose. 

"Yeah, I guess."  The teen sighed.  "You know, I should thank you."

Lex shook his head, "No need- it's the least I can do-"

Whitney grimaced in pain, "No, the least you could do would have been to not have gone out that night."

He paused, and Lex felt compelled to mumble in the silence, "I didn't know…"

"Kansas State already called."  Fordman replied.  "Dad had to sign a paper releasing my medical condition.  Then… they sent another form, asking me or my folks to release them from my scholarship.  They claimed they didn't want to rush me, but they needed the release to sign-up my replacement."

Lex shook his head.  "I'm certain you can try out next year."

Whitney sighed, looking out the window.  "Yeah, well, it was my last chance to go to college."

The multi-millionaire winced.  It was easy to forget not everyone could easily afford college tuition.  But he was _not_ going to offer to pay for this kid's school.  Not after the medical tab he was already picking up.  No, Lex Luthor was not going to give this kid the excuse to roll over and give up.  Lex let his business poker-face fall over his features, ignoring his guilt for the moment.  "Whitney Fordman," Lex replied, "I'm persuaded you can overcome this little setback."

The football player glared.  "You're a real gentleman, letting me take your bullet."

Lex smirked.  "If I was a real gentleman, I would have sat next to Lana that night and kept Clark away from her.  I'm convinced that would have worked out well, her being right behind me."

Fordman glared, even as he swallowed hard, realizing that Lex Luthor was right- Lana could have been laying here, in this hospital bed.

"I'm confident," the bald man continued, "that she could have survived the experience as well as yourself."  He narrowed his eyes.  "I am sorry, Whitney.  I didn't want this to happen.  And I will do my best to insure that you receive the best possible care.  But I can't change the past."

The football player dropped his eyes.  "Nice words."

Lex sighed, "I know.  I got an earful of them from Jonathan Kent.  Something about stop feeling sorry for myself and fix what I could."

"Oh."

Lex turned, "Unfortunately, my plane awaits, so- doctor, Fordman, good day."

////

Down the hall, in the ICU unit, one Smallville shooting victim still lay in a coma.  Brian Ranelle laid in his artificially induced coma, the doctors waiting for the swelling in his brain and spinal column to go down.  Tubes and wires connected to his body, taking care of his every need and measuring his progress.

His family prayed for a good outcome, worried about the use of his legs and arms.  The doctors had told them that there was damage.  Its extent was still unknown.

Each beat of his heart was echoed by a faint pulse of green light from around his neck.  Despite his injuries, his parents had insisted that he be allowed to wear his favorite necklace.  Brian had always said it brought him luck during exams.  It was made from meteorites cut and polished to shinny beads that were strung on a leather strap.  His father had given him the necklace last year as a gift when he had passed the geology college correspondence course.  

////

"Plans" Lionel whispered, looking out over his city from his penthouse.  "Plans within plans.  And what's mine is mine, and Alexander, what's yours… will be mine."

He took another sip of his excellent wine, looking over at his sleeping wife behind him.  He frowned, 'probably passed out from drink' he thought.  She had definitely been tipsy tonight.  'Ah well, it doesn't matter,' he thought, 'she was still enjoyable earlier, after I got her to agree to let the nurse have the brat.'

He turned back to the city.  "Never underestimate a Luthor, boy."

Lex thought the bullets missed him?  Maybe.  But not the fallout.  He'd make sure of that.  That bald-headed freak would never become some golden-boy favored prince of the people now.  "King of Crap" Lionel smirked.  Oh no, Lex was about to experience a world-class smear campaign if he had anything to say to the media.

////

"CHLOE SULLIVAN, GET IN HERE!"  Perry bellowed from his office, and Chloe cut across the newsroom.  Billy smirked from his desk- as senior intern they had actually given him a desk, where Chloe had to share hers with two others.

"Yes sir?"  Perry was sitting down, Danko across from him, standing in the back of the room with his arms crossed.

"Shut the door, sit down."  He snapped.

Chloe did as she was told, brain racing to figure out what she could have done.  Maybe it was another assignment?  

"Now, you are young.  And this is your first year.  But you have to do better."

"Sir?"  Chloe asked, confused.  She had gotten to speak to the families in the hospital.  Some of them had refused to speak to anyone else, it was a great scoop.

"Finally gotten to listen to your interview recording."  Perry snorted, scowling.  "What were you thinking?!  You missed at least three good leads for good quotes!"

Chloe sunk into her chair, blinking at Mr. White's glare.  She had messed up?  What was he talking about?  "Sir?"  It was embarrassing how frightened she sounded.

"Look, kid."  Perry leaned back, rubbing his face before continuing, "I won't mince words.  We're not here to be Lex Luthor's friend.  Those families are upset- their children have been shot, and it's all his fault.  It won't take much for them to say that.  I just need some solid quotes to that effect."

Chloe shook her head.  "But, it's not his fault- he didn't-"

Perry leaned forward, face red.  "I.  Don't.  Care."  He said slowly, clearly.  "That's what people think, that's what people want to hear, that's what is going to sell papers."  He waved off her protests, "and before you get all over me about truth in journalism, quotes are people's opinions, what they think, what they feel.  And that's the greatest truth there is.  At least in a situation like this.  People want to know what's going through the victim's heads.  Get me that.  You understand?"

Chloe nodded.

"Yeah, good.  You and Danko are going back to Smallville.  They're starting to move some of the victims out of the Metropolis hospitals.  I want you to cover that."  Perry pulled out a file, dumped it on his desk and began to read.  He looked up, "You still here?  Get going!"

Chloe jumped up, heading for the door.

"Kid!"

Chloe turned around the look at her boss, Perry.

"You got potential.  Just take the gloves off- you're not here to make friends, you're here to be a reporter."  He leaned back, "Or I'll put you with those 'fashion and society' columnists."

Chloe winced and gasped, "No sir!  I mean, yes sir!"  

Perry chuckled, waving her out.

////

Wayne manor was as dark, the night air twisting the curtains was Bruce walked the shadowed halls to his study.

"Sir?"  Alfred asked, appearing soundlessly in front of his unsurprised employer. 

Bruce waved a hand.  "Nothing important Alfred, the Smallville team sent their report in this evening, and I wanted to compose my reply before going out tonight."

"Yes sir.  If you don't need me here?  There's some equipment I need to work on below if you're planning on going out."

"No, I'm fine.  Just need to ask for some hard data.  Apparently the Kents are considered to be far too productive workers on their farm for three people.  I want to know what the team bases their conclusions on."

"Yes sir.  Call if you need me."

////

Author's Notes:

Several of you reviewed or wrote me last chapter about Lex ruling the world.  IMHO, Lex sees himself as a businessman first, and he fully understands that if you own a large enough share of every single last market on the entire planet, you effectively rule the entire economy of the world.  So, with all of his soon to be marketed alien tech, he's likely to control markets.  Lots of them, maybe all of them.  

Of course, he has to figure out how to protect and develop his new tech with the limited capitol at his disposal.

Also… Those of you who really love this fic.  I've started a list called "Lex Redemptionists" where I post my chapters first, before fanfiction.net.  So, if you want to join, maybe post your own fic, get my next chapter mailed straight to your inbox even if fanfiction.net isn't up and running, etc. feel free to join.  It's currently a pretty low volume list, so not a lot of e-mails will jamb up your mailbox.  Here's the addy:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/LexRedemptionists/


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45

////

Lana Lang walked down the hospital corridor in Smallville.  She was carrying two vases overflowing with flowers, a bunch of balloons on colorful ribbons floated over her shoulder.  Despite her cheerful burden, she looked tired and worn.  She turned down one short corridor, pushing open one of the rooms.  "Whitney?  You awake?  I brought another set."  She called out, poking her head around the corner.  The room was awash in bouquets of flowers and get-well balloons.

"Yeah," the ex-football player grumbled, "just watching the news.  Not much else to do here."  He smiled at her, carefully patting the mattress with his good arm.  "Wanna sit with me?"  He hit mute for the television.

The black haired girl smiled back, "sure thing, just let me put these up- they're from the Drama Club and the Band."

"Drama Club?  They sent me flowers?"  Whitney shook his head.

Lana gently sat next to her boyfriend, shrugging her shoulders.  "Yeah, well, I heard that someone said it wasn't fair for the different clubs and groups at school to only send get-well stuff to their members.  Because some people where being left out.  So everyone pitched in again, and bought something for everyone."

"Oh."

"The band managed to buy something for everyone who was… hit… in the Beanery, not just the high-school students.  They're a bigger group you know."  She sighed.

Whitney carefully brushed a stray hair out of her face.  "You went to another funeral, didn't you?"

She shook her head yes.  "Last one.  I mean… we hope.  Brian came out of his coma yesterday, but the doctors are worried about fluid in his lungs.  He's in isolation; they don't want him getting sick.  But everyone else is doing better."  She smiled at Whitney, "you look better."

"I would hope, it's been a week."  Whitney leaned back, sighing deeply.  "I'm glad you came by.  It's… hard."

"I know."  She softly replied.  "But… I know you'll get better."

"Yeah.  Doc says I've got a good chance at full recovery."

"That's great."

"I hope so.  I hope he's not pulling my leg.  I don't think Luthor put him up to it, because he's from Gotham.  Bruce Wayne sent him, you know."

"Whitney!  Lex wouldn't do that!"  Lana shook her head, "I mean, I know that everyone's saying it's his fault- but he didn't know.  And… he's trying to help.  He's paid for all these specialists, and doctors, and…" Lana trailed off, frustrated.  She didn't know what to say, she just knew that Lex didn't mean to get shot at, and even if had been the 'target', that didn't make the shooting his fault.  "He helped.  Lex helped.  He called 911 and told Clark how to hold your… wound closed.  It was making the worst noise…"

The young man sighed, dragging a hand through his hair.  "I know Lana.  I know.  It's just… I got a visit today.  From a lawyer.  Dad brought him.  He's representing a bunch of the other… victims in a class action suit against Lex Luthor.  He said we'd get lots of money.  Pay for my college.  And… I don't know.  It's not really right to sue… I mean, I don't think Lex knew it was coming… how can it be his fault?  But how else am I going to pay for my medical bills?  My college?  And anything else?"

Lana was silent, thinking.  Whitney reached out, grabbing the TV remote, "Hey, they're talking about it."

The volume went up as the LexCorp and LuthorCorp logos sped across the screen above a pretty blond reporter standing in front of the LuthorCorp Tower in downtown Metropolis. "-and Lex Luthor has issued another statement claiming that he is unable to reveal the suspects for the employer to the Smallville shooter, despite raging rumors that LuthorCorp is somehow involved."

Off screen, the anchorman replied, "Pat, Has there been any conformation of that?"

The reporter replied, "The authorities have continued to _claim_ that they've made progress in narrowing down the investigation, with multiple search warrants being issued, but details are sketchy and no results have been revealed.  For example, earlier today, a search warrant was issued here, to Lionel Luthor, to investigate his personal finances.  He's the third such individual to receive such a warrant.  To some, this investigation has seemed scattered and directionless."

"There is one thing everyone can agree on- as each day passes it becomes more and more likely that any suspicious numbers on the books would have been carefully erased.  Leaving this crime unsolved.  Also,  there have been accusations that the authorities are using this investigation to examine the personal finances of anyone they want to scrutinize."

"In other words, an attack on personal freedoms.  Any reports on the class action suit being brought against Lex Luthor for his responsibilities in this matter?"

"Well, Jake, most of the news on that front is unconfirmed rumor at this time- except that it has been announced by the IRS that LexCorp is actually privately incorporated, not a partnership.  The real question is when this happened.  The most fascinating rumor states that incorporation happened _before_ the shooting.  This means that any award granted from a class-action suit would result in the division of Lex Luthor's private fortune, not in the company itself.  While Lex Luthor's personal fortune is large, and would include some stocks representing LexCorp assets, LexCorp itself would not be in danger of being sold off piecemeal to pay for any awards.  If the rumor is true."

"Anything else?"

"Not at this time, Jake."

"Well, in other news-"

Whitney hit the mute button.  He sighed again.  "The lawyer said I had to sign for the lawsuit.  Not my parents.  Because I'm eighteen, and an adult.  But…  I don't know what to do."

"Sleep on it?"  Lana asked, smiling sweetly.  

////

Lex sighed from the backseat of the SUV as it pulled into the drive of the Kent's farm, the sunset painting the sky behind him in vivid colors.  He felt hemmed in this last week.  Armored cars, armored personnel, and security checks on everyone he was going to meet, everywhere he was going to go.  No more pulling up to random coffee shops in a slick car when he needed a boost of caffeine.  No more jet-setting around the country for business- unless he brought half a dozen people with him and planned every second.  No more 'hands on' approach in his factories, with visiting his working men and women face to face.  Everything was different, and Lex hated it.

Hated how it looked, too.  His new PR man had recommended a radio interview with a friendly journalist on the west coast and it had gone well.  Gone well in its entirety, but few station or newspapers were playing more than sound bites.  'Sometimes I feel a little trapped,' and 'I feel I've taken care of my responsibilities in Smallville' _were_ direct quotes, but he felt they were out of context and didn't tell the whole story.

It didn't help that the local media seemed to forget _everything_ he had done and harped _continuously_ on what else he 'needed to be doing'.  They had even started talking about 'what LexCorp should do to heal Smallville' during the _farm report_ on the local radio station.  So much for the corn crop.

And that didn't even bring into account what he needed to talk to the Kent's about.

When they stopped, his two bodyguards hopped out, chattering into radios and checking the perimeter.  Lex waited until they gave him the signal before getting out.  He trudged without looking to either across the yard and into the house, letting the door bang shut behind him.

It was well past dinner in a farmer's house, and Clark was doing dishes in the kitchen while Jonathan and Martha watched the television.  They looked up, Jonathan smiling, "You look beat big guy."

"God," Lex growled, "You have no true conception.  I've spent the last week feeling like I'm trailing around a pack of dogs."  He dropped his briefcase on the table, pulling off his coat.  "I keep telling myself that they're my entourage, but I feel like a criminal with a parole officer."  He absently hung his coat in the hall closet, sighing deeply.  He walked into the kitchen, "Got any coffee?"

"Some left in the machine."  Martha replied.

Clark smiled, and with a 'Hello Lex," pulled down a cup for his friend.  Lex poured, and adding sugar, opened the fridge for some milk.  He pulled out the bottle, and whispered to Clark, "Hey, you drink out of this?"  He had seen Clark gulp straight from the bottle more than once.  

Clark smirked, "It tastes better that way."

Lex rolled his eyes, and with a sigh, topped off his cup.  "Probably still healthier than airport coffee, even with whatever strange bacteria you've picked up."  He put the milk back, turned to pick up his cup, only to stop and stare at his coffee.  Lex cocked his head to one side, and then looked at Clark.  "And the scientist in me is suddenly very, very curious."  Good grief, Clark probably did have alien bacteria in his system.

Clark put another clean plate in the drainer and rolled his eyes.  "Hasn't hurt anyone yet."

Lex picked up his cup and took a sip.  "Yeah, well, I still want to know."  It was true enough- the Kents, and himself, where already inoculated with alien bacteria or even viruses courtesy of Clark.  No one was sick yet.

However, he still wanted to get Clark down to a lab and take samples.  But first… "Clark, you've looked over the house lately?  I need to talk to you and your parents."

"Yeah, it's clear."  Clark shrugged, "and I'm almost done."

Lex walked into the living room, pulling a chair with him from the dinning area to sit on.  Jonathan had his recliner, Martha the couch, and Clark would soon sit by her.  Lex settled back, watching the news program.  "Well, how am I doing?"

Martha shook her head.  "Not so good.  They haven't mentioned your doctors or arrangements you've made for the ones from Gotham for days.  They mention Bruce Wayne quite a lot, and they make it sound like he's footing the entire bill.  However, they're talking at great length about the lawsuit.  And they make it sound like everything's all your fault, and that you're going to be taken to the cleaners."

Lex sipped his coffee, eyes cold.  "Not going to happen.  My lawyers have reported to me that the lawsuit is on very shaky ground.  How can they claim that I'm legally responsible for a shooting I neither supported, nor hired, and was in fact was even a target of?  Especially since there was no warning or death threats against me going into the situation?  Besides, once it becomes clear that my personal fortune is completely tied up in LexCorp stock-, which isn't for public trade- it will rapidly become apparent that the suit will take _years_ before anyone sees a dime.  Couple that with the fact that what I've done so far will be credited to me in any courtroom and the fact that the primary legal firm organizing this suite is the same firm that represents my father?  The primary suspect of the investigation?  When that becomes public knowledge, the suite will hit another snag."

Lex looked up, "You see, this class-action suite is most likely being prodded forward by lawyers who are fronting for Lionel.  To keep me busy while he tears down my business and lets the lawyers, legal fees, and security costs eat away at my capitol.  He's just trying to ruin me."

"Hasn't yet."  Clark whispered.  His parents shook their heads in agreement.

"No," Lex agreed, "but by tying up my resources with this game of extremely expensive security forces and medical costs?  I've practically got both hands tied behind my back as far as product development goes."

"Product development?"  Clark asked.

"And research and development."  He leaned back rubbing his head.  "And that," Lex softly added, "is a problem."

"Why?"  Martha asked, her husband looking tight and nervous.

Lex sighed, bone weary.  "That… ship is a risk."  He glanced over at Jonathan, "and a responsibility.  We can't- I can't- have it fall into the wrong hands.  But…"

"You can't leave it alone."  Jonathan replied, sounding almost resigned.

Lex shrugged, "It probably wouldn't let itself be left alone, sir.  Not forever.  Even if you managed to keep it hidden here, down in the cellar for the next hundred years… eventually, someone would have found it.  And even in a hundred years, it would still be the biggest find of all of human history.  It's that advanced."

"Really?"  Martha asked, "It's just a rocket."

Lex chuckled.  "Not hardly.  Did Clark tell you what we found?  You hit a button, and it opens up.  It _unfolds_…" Lex shook his head wonderingly, voice awed, "the technology it would take to fold space- it's bigger on the inside, bigger than your house even- and they built it to fold up, just to make it smaller for the _plumbing_…  I can't even _imagine_…"

"And you want to make money off it?"  Jonathan asked.

The bald millionaire shook his head.  "It's more than that.  After all, someone will eventually find it.  If not today, or tomorrow, maybe next century- or even the one after that.  And will any of us be around to protect it?  To make sure that they use that knowledge for good?  Clark might be able to destroy it, but that does have certain _unknown_ risks.  It could blow up or leak radiation or even destroy the space-time continuum around Earth.  Which I will admit is a little melodramatic- but-  So the question becomes, what do you _want_ to do with the ship?"  Lex had thought about it on the plane, and he knew that Jonathan needed to think about this- weigh the risks.

"And get rich."

"Actually, that's at least ten years down the road.  Maybe further.  Besides a huge lead-time between the start of any formal research and product development and marketing, we'll need to funnel practically all of the profits back into the program.  After all, we aren't talking about a few gizmos here; we're talking about… everything.  Space travel, pollution-free energy," Lex smiled, "right now, the opportunities are probably bigger than we can imagine."

"So what's the problem?"

Lex frowned.  This was the hard part.  "I'm… not sure… I can do this alone."

Clark replied, "You're not alone."

Lex sadly smiled, looking away, "I'm one man, with less than ten million in liquid capitol to my name and a patchwork security team that I'm not a hundred percent sure of.  I'm very alone."

"What are you getting at?"  Jonathan asked.

Lex held up is hands, palms out in a pleading gesture.  "I don't want to do this, in fact- I'm going to wait six months before I even make up my mind that it's even a good idea.  But, perhaps, after we get to know them, check them out, we might see about approaching some… investors."

"Who?" "But we can't tell anyone about-" "I don't think-"

Lex held his hands up again, "We wouldn't tell them anything.  Not yet.  But… well… I wanted you to think about it."

Lex spent the next thirty minutes calming Jonathan and Martha down, unsurprised when Clark followed him to bed.

"Lex?"  Clark whispered in the upper hall.

"Yeah?"

"Who?"

Lex sighed, "right now?  The only one I can think of is Bruce Wayne.  But I don't know him that well, and he'd want to know everything.  We'll have to see."

Clark sighed.  "You know, we're both still young- can't this just wait?  Till everything blows over?"

"Life isn't like that, Clark.  But… we are waiting.  Okay?"

"Yeah.  Hey, you gonna be around here a few days?  I was thinking we could borrow Lana's horses and maybe ride a little bit or something.  We haven't gotten to hang out much."

"Yes, I'll be here for awhile.  And that… that would be nice.  Or maybe a midnight walk?   Like we used to do?"  Lex smiled as he turned back to his bedroom, "and I used to think my life was complicated…"

////

"Alfred, what do you know about farm-work?"  Bruce asked, munching his morning bagel and lox.  The dinning room was just beginning to lighten with the coming dawn, and Bruce Wayne had decided to skip the bare hour of sleep he could have gotten.  It would have just made him sleepy, and he had several reports for Wayne Enterprises that needed his review.

Alfred topped off Bruce's coffee cup, clicking his tongue.  "Not much, sir.  It's been a long time since I spent any time on a farm."

Bruce nodded, "Yes, I know."  He continued on, "the team I sent to Lex Luthor's rustic getaway have reported that the Kents are able to do the work of at least six people.  Fences have been repaired at record rates, cow are herded into other pastures with ease, and… some of the heavy machinery has been moved, but their not sure how- at least not with the speed by which it's been done."

"Ah, a mystery.  Do they have any recommendations?"

Bruce snorted.  "No.  But at least they reported it.  One of them added that they had spoken to one of the original Luthor Team members, and the man just rolled his eyes and replied something along the lines of 'so what?  If you can't prove it or explain it, no one wants to hear about it.'  Which would explain why LuthorCorp security isn't as good as mine."  Wayne frowned, wondering if he should instruct his team to inform Lex on why his original security was so incompetent- it was likely that they covered up their mistakes as well.

////

"Well, kid- you did a great job.  I'm proud of you."  Danko Ranovich leaned back, slicking his graying hair back.  His darkly tanned face flashed a grin.

"Thanks!"  Chloe smiled back, smoothing her green t-shirt over her jeans.  She looked at herself, then added, "I bet Brian makes another nasty comment about my casual wear when we get back to the office- but everyone's more willing to talk to me if I don't look all official."

Ranovich smiled.  "Of course.  And putting your 'interviewee' at ease is important."  He waved a dismissing hand, "don't worry about Brian, I'll tell Perry that you were just wooing your fellow classmates to open their mouths.  After all, you've got some juicy quotes- what was it?"

"'Lex Luthor owes us, it's his fault I'm in pain.' And 'You know he's got tons of money- why should he be buying those fancy new SUVs when I don't know how I'm going to pay my doctor bills?'"  Chloe gusted a sigh.  "Even if those new SUVs are armored vehicles, because he needs more than a Porsche now.  Do you think we should mention that?  That his new cars are all bullet proof, and because of this class-action suit he can't help out as much without 'assuming guilt'?"

The older man shrugged.  "I'll ask Perry.  Maybe one of our columnists might want to write a page or two on our legal system, but we're just out to get the facts we can and put together our story.  Come on, kid."  

He knew better than to tell her that he had no plans to even out the article, he was just going to slant like he had been told.

////

Author's Notes: 

Those of you who really love this fic:  I've started a list called "Lex Redemptionists" where I post my chapters first, before fanfiction.net.  So, if you want to join, maybe post your own fic, get my next chapter mailed straight to your inbox even if fanfiction.net isn't up and running, etc. feel free to join.  It's currently a pretty low volume list, so not a lot of e-mails will jamb up your mailbox.  Here's the addy:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/LexRedemptionists/


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46

Pink.

Pretty, pretty, pink.  Little pretty pink plus signs on pretty little white sticks.  In the morning.

It was a beautiful day.

Jessica smiled, giving herself a huge, beauty-pageant smile in the mirror, hand cupping her belly and griping the stick in her other hand.  Her grin plastered across her face, she turned, hair still wrapped in a towel around her head, terry-cloth bathrobe wrapped around her body.  She trouped out the bathroom and down the hall of the huge penthouse, headed straight for Lionel's office. 

He was in there, as usual for a Saturday morning.  Face scowling as he looked over something on his computer.  He glanced up, frowning at her, his hair still its wild mane.  Probably didn't like the fact that she wasn't dressed yet- he didn't like her coming in here in anything less than make-up and full clothes- he had other businessmen in here sometimes.  For meetings.

Jessica smiled, and laid the stick on his desk in front of him.

"Ninety-seven and a half percent accuracy.  I'll have to go to the doctors to check- but I'd thought you'd like to know."  She gave him her biggest smile, waiting.  He looked down, eyes narrowed.  And then his eyebrows lifted and he grinned back.

"Jessie, my dear, you are a treasure."  He was smiling at her, eyes warm.  He hadn't been this nice since the baby had been born and Jessica loved it.

"Thank you, my dear."  She grinned again, and reached to pick up the little piece of plastic.  "And I'm going to finish getting dressed and go shopping.  Shall we have lunch together?"

Lionel gave her a toothy smile.  "Sounds good.  I'll call you.  I was expecting a conference call from my European… staff, but… I don't know how long that will last."

Jessica dimpled, and turned to go.  "I'll be waiting."

Walking down the hallway again, she mumbled, "Two and a half months… well, maybe you'll leave me alone now."    

////

The group marched down the executive hallway of Smallville's Plant No. III headed for the large conference room.  Lex was leading the group forward, the brown haired man on his right clearly dancing attendance on his every word.  The lawyers, both men and women wearing expensive Armani suits and totting briefcases stuffed with legal documents, surrounded him.  

"So, what's the current status of the lawsuit?"  Lex asked the lead man walking beside him.

Sam Weatherford cleared his throat and began to speak.  His father, Robert Weatherford and CEO of the firm, had given him the Luthor account as a test- if you could keep a Luthor happy, you could keep any client happy.  "Well sir, the two groups in Smallville have officially split- one group is willing to work with you, the other has filed their lawsuit.  Fortunately, none of the families that lost any of their children is with the second group- the lawsuit is made up of people with injuries only.  Of course, some of them are rather severe…"

Lex sighed, "I suppose I should be happy about this."

"It could be worse.  Owning this local plant really made a big difference- none of the families that are employed here even looked at signing onto the lawsuit- especially once they realized you would assist them.  Brain Ranelle's family especially- the quadriplegic- _that_ would have been expensive."

Lex winced, "I thought you said I had nothing to worry about."

"You don't- but a quadriplegic would make a juror think twice about your guilt, or lack of it.  The United States legal system isn't exactly perfect, and a sob story wouldn't help.  Of course, our biggest problem is still the fact that we know that Grevenich and Jones is the legal council behind the class-action suite, and…"

"As the legal council under retainer by Lionel Luthor, they have a conflict of interest."  Lex growled, "but since Lionel Luthor is no longer considered a suspect, that conflict of interest is no longer an issue.  Legally.  I won't go into the morality of the issue…"

The group was almost rolling their eyes in unison.  Sam Weatherford couldn't stop his disgusted grunt- it seemed that almost every day he was surprised at how far down LuthorCorp was willing to go.

////

Brain Ranelle lay in his hospital bed staring at the ceiling.  White tiles filled his vision, with only a square of white plastic from the light fixture breaking the monotony.  The physical therapist would be here soon, and Brain wanted to scream in frustration.  They kept pampering him, trying to make him feel better about the fact that he probably would never walk again.  And no one from school had bothered to stop by in the last week.  Some friends he had here in Smallville.  Man, he wanted his computer.

"Hello, Brain, ready to begin?"  The lean and athletic young man that was in charge of developing his physical therapy swept into the room.  Brain heard the sounds of him messing with a clipboard, Brain couldn't see, couldn't move his head.

"Sure."  Brain grumbled.  "Hey, do you think we could work on getting me online?  I've got a lot of friends who play Everquest with me, and I'd really like to talk with them."

The man looked slightly confused.  "The nurse can help you call them on the phone…"

Brain rolled his eyes disgustedly.  "Online.  You know- IM?  Instant messages?  I don't have phone numbers, just userids.  Screen names."

"Ah."  The man nodded.

"Look," Brain ground out.  "Doc says I'm not going to walk again.  But I was never into sports.  I was the president of the math club and the chess club for crying out loud.  I… I just want to get back online, okay?  I've got more friends online than at school, and… well, I've been thinking.  I was going to be a programmer.  I can still do that.  Doc said I'd probably get some use of my arms back, that I'll be able to move my head."

The white-coated therapist broadly smiled, before turning to his clipboard.  "Yes, that is a goal we can focus on."

Brain weakly smiled back.  "Yeah.  I just want to surf again, you know?  It's boring sitting here."  The green-stoned necklace almost pulsed at his neck.  Brain continued on, mumbling to himself, "that's all I want, to talk to my computer again…"

////

Author's Notes:

I really want to finish this story.  I really do.  Can I hire anyone to be designated butt-kicker out there?


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter 47

It was strangely gloomy and dark in Wayne Manor despite the sunlight filtering through heavy drapes.  The air sat heavily, each sound of Alfred walking across the wooden floor a sharp click-click-click as Bruce Wayne sat hunched over his desk in his study, pouring over the print-out spread before him.

"Alfred… this doesn't make any sense.  There's something missing from the police report."

"Sir?"  The faithful butler deposited the asked for glass of water on the desk in Master Bruce's study, quietly supportive of his employer's need to talk out his thoughts.

"The gunman got off over fifty rounds during his attack on Lex Luthor.  Looking at the spread and placement of the bullets found within the coffee shop, I can't figure out how he possibly missed.  His first shoots literally ripped through the young man sitting directly behind Luthor- and there is something off about the timing of Clark Kent's rescue… But I can't put my finger on it."

"Sir?"

"Alfred, can you run a simulation?  Plot out the firing rate of this… gun-" Wayne sneered in disgust,"-and the locations of the primary players and victims.  Something isn't ringing right."

"Of course, sir."

////

The two men were sitting in a office inside of Plant III of LexCorp, sipping cooling coffee while going security reports for the last week.

"I don't like this part of your report."  Sam pointed to the print out before him, tapping at the paragraph in question.  He looked tired, and he felt it- these Wayne Enterprises employees were not fitting in smoothly as he had hoped.

"What about it don't you like?"  The black-clad man asked, arms crossed over his chest.

"It's too open ended.  You've explained why you needed to review the those visiting the grounds here at LexCorp, and how you found that Clark Kent has full security clearance, and that you've seem video of him walking the perimeter of the property. But you go on to say that 'By coordinating with the Kent Farm Security Team, you have determined that he shows up only minutes after he leaves the farm, and you can't account for his short travel time'."

"Well then, what do you recommend?"

Sam sighed, rubbing his forehead, "Just leave it out."

"But then my report would not include all my findings."

Sam tried to explain, without loosing his temper, "but then you look like an idiot who can't do his job.  I need a complete report.  With this information, the report isn't complete."

"Sir…" The man shifted in his seat.  "I know that LuthorCorp had unwritten means and procedures for these kind of things, most of which were designed to keep Lionel Luthor happy.  Is it your intension to continue these methods, or would, perhaps, Lex Luthor want my full report?"

Sam looked away.  This was why he hated working with the Wayne Enterprises team.  He hated dwelling on all the mistakes LuthorCorp security had made.  "Fine.  We'll test the waters with your information."

But maybe this was the best way?  After all, if Lex Luthor was truly bothered by an incomplete report, then Sam could blame it all on the Wayne Enterprises team.  Including the fact that they were looking into Clark Kent.  Sam still wondered what was different about that young man, but his boss had been very clear that they were forbidden to look any closer.  Perhaps the Wayne team could solve the problem for him?

////

Chloe read over the final copy that had gone to the printers on her latest interviews.  She glared at the papers, grumbling to herself as she gulped her morning coffee in the breakroom.  "Lex Luthor has responsibilities, my… foot.  What about our responsibility to tell a fair story?  This isn't what Lydia Bennet meant at all!  And she probably thinks I miss-quoted her!"

"Hey!"

Chloe looked up, seeing Jenniffer from the Lifestyles department standing next to her with her own morning cup.  "Uh, morning…"

Jennifer beamed, gesturing at Chloe's copy.  "Saw your article.  Congratulations!"

"Oh, thanks."  Chloe slapped on her best smile, wondering what Jennifer wanted to say.

Jennifer pointedly looked around, and glancing noticeably at the latest newshound that had dragged himself in for a cup of coffee, gestured at Chloe to follow her to the hall.  Chloe followed, curious.

Jennifer stopped outside the women's room, far from the regular flow of traffic.  "Uh, Chloe Sullivan?  Right?"

"Yeah…"

"Look, I know it's none of my business, okay?  But I heard you back there, and… well, I just wanted to say… don't let it bother you."

"But- they cut all my work, and edited everything to look like Lex Luthor is some kind of demon from hell or something!"  Chloe felt herself going into a full rant, but Jennifer waved her off.

"I know.  Look, I know.  No, don't give me that look.  You think I'm just some fashion writer, don't you?  Hey, once I was an intern too, you know.  Followed all the senior reporters around, took notes, the whole bit.  And I got to interview the mayor once.  And they wanted to slant my article, re-write my work, and I got mad.  Complained to the head editor.  Thought I was standing up for truth in reporting."  Jennifer sounded bitter, "Next thing I know- they moved me to fashion and lifestyle."

Chloe's eyes got big, "Oh." She whispered.  

"Yeah, I know.  I'm practically a morality tale for the young interns, so they grow up to be good little reporters or something."  Jennifer shook her head in disgust.  "I haven't told my boss yet, so don't whisper a word, but it's a good thing I'm pregnant.  Vincent and I- my husband- we're starting our family, and I'm going to quit and not come back till our last is in school.  I am so sick of this job and all the politics of being a reporter."  Jennifer shot Chloe a glare.  "Just don't make the same mistake I did.  Just let it go- it's all your editor's fault anyway.  They fix anything they want to read like they want."

////

Jonathan grimly scowled at the dash of his truck as he yanked on the wheel to turn the corner leading down the dusty road to the farm.  The radio had been chattering all the way from the general store about 'Lex Luthor' and his responsibilities.

'_I'm just saying, Jack, that the man has a responsibility to owe up to his actions.  He shouldn't **make** the families take him to court.  We all know that he's planning on bogging the whole thing down in the courts, and it's going to be **years** before anyone gets anything!  Meanwhile, people are suffering and struggling to pay their medical bills_.'

'_Of course!  And the sooner he does it, the better!  And Smallville needs to remember that anything that he's done already isn't because he's a good guy- he's trying to limit his liability._'

 '_True, true- well, let's take our next caller- Hello!  You're on the air with MetroTalk Radio!_'

'_Hello?  Oh, hello!  My name's Barbra Bouyeau, and I don't agree with you about Lex Luthor owing us any money._'  Jonathan suddenly felt sorry for the caller, Barbra had never liked speaking to crowds and she sounded nervous.  He remembered her vauguely from High School.  They would probably eat her alive- Jack and Alex loved chewing up the odd caller that tried to argue with them.

'_And why not?_' Jack scoffed.

'_Because he didn't do it!  He didn't go out a shoot at us!  He was there, and I remember how much he tried to help afterward, and how upset he was about everything!  And he called all those extra doctors, and made all those arrangements, and now everyone's acting like he was the gunman!_'

Jack snorted, but Alex cut in, '_And I suppose you think that just because he "made arrangements" that he should get away scot-free?  There are people out there that are having trouble making their mortgage payments because of their medical bills, you know._'

'_Uh, hello?  Alex, I think we lost our caller.'_

Alex chuckled, '_Guess she didn't really want to talk.'_

Jonathan frowned at the radio.  Somehow, he didn't think Barbra had hung up, she must have been cut off.  Deliberately.  Lex had mentioned that the LuthorCorp owned media would be slanting all their shows against him- and the MetroTalk show was usually against 'sue-happy lawyers'.  The farmer sighed.  He'd mention this to Lex.  Life was getting complicated now.

////

Brain glared at his ceiling, groggy with fatigue.  He had tried endlessly to learn how to move his arms, type with his stiff fingers.  His arms hurt- somehow the small movements he had managed had made him stiff and sore.  

And his computer- there it sat, right next to his bed.  Mom and Dad had brought it up, knowing that he wanted to talk to his friends on the net- but he didn't have enough typing speed to say anything more than 'hello'- it was too frustrating.  The physical therapist had finally called it a day, leaving young Brian staring at the ceiling, tears welling in his eyes.

He wanted to talk, to talk to his computer.  He just wanted his friends back.  And as he dropped into exhausted slumber, the green rock at his throat flared bright, the computer next to him faintly rattling, as the cables next to him twitched and flickered green.  One rising to snake over his body before falling back, lifeless.

////


	48. Chapter A

Åuthor's Notes:

YES, I haven't updated this fic in TEN years. But, well, I got laid off (INSTANT writters-block, let me tell you), moved overseas, and then back to the US. Looking over old files and thought I would at least post what I had written, even if it is just certain scenes.

No, I won't write the rest of the fic after I polish up these chapters. The ship has sunk, not just passed. Also, living in Japan for seven years ment I missed several seasons of episodes, and most people don't like fan-fic that doesn't take in cannon ellements from latter episodes, even if you don't follow the same plot-line.

Anyway, thanks to all of you who still read this.

/

Bruce picked up the piece of paper in front of him, eyes narrowed as he looked at Lex Luthor. The bald man was casually leaning back in his chair, his nervousness betrayed only by a slight tightening around the eyes.

Bruce Wayne cleared his throat. "Pretty standard non-disclosure pact… I understood that. Followed by a highly irregular and rather alarming vague summary about discussing a joint R&D venture that would be limited… from products that 'can be used in weapons of mass destruction, either they be either nuclear, chemical, biological, or _mechanical_ in nature.' And you expect me to sign this?"

Lex nodded. "Yes. I want to be very upfront with you, Bruce. I'm envisioning a rather large undertaking here, but I do want to restrict the products developed from our venture- nothing that could be used as an offensive weapon, actually. I think it would be in both our long-term interests to focus on products that will clearly be the best choice for the entire human race. "

"That's a rather grandiose statement." Bruce straightened the papers, stacking them neatly on the table.

"I think it's accurate." Lex replied.

/

They had discussed, argued, and debated for the last three hours. And Wayne couldn't help but realize that Lex wasn't going to change his mind- even if his friend behind him was barely holding himself from fidgeting anymore. Time to end this.

"I'm sorry- I can't accept these terms." Bruce rose, almost regretful.

He expected the bald millionaire to rise with him, to argue his point further, but Lex Luthor was still sitting down. Looking off into the distance, looking regretful.

Behind them, the teenager sighed. "It's all about trust, isn't it?"

Bruce just looked at the kid. He didn't need to answer that- Lex was a Luthor, after all- and six months, even a few years of being his own man wouldn't change the fact that Lionel Luthor had taught his son everything the young man knew about business.

Clark was shaking his head. "That silly- Lex hasn't done anything that would make you not trust him. He's told you everything- everything that he can, anyway. And you're more worried about his name than his history."

Bruce sighed, "It's not that simple."

"Isn't it? You want to know what's going on- we'll tell you. We just need certain reassurances. The business deal is optional." Lex quietly added.

Something about that was off- a Luthor, even a reformed one, would never show his hand without knowing the deal was closed. Something was fishy. Bruce sneered, "how optional, Lex?" If he thought he could just sign the paper, find out what was going on between Lex and his father and walk away unscathed…

The man gave a secret smile, looked at him saying, "Doesn't matter- I really don't think you'll walk away."

And that was the answer Bruce expected- Lex would never let him go, and Bruce wasn't about to be tied to a Luthor forever. He had too much to loose. Wayne shook his head, "I'm sorry, Lex. I don't know you well enough to sign something that binding-" He stopped. Clark Kent was rolling his eyes. "What?" Bruce asked.

"You don't trust us." Clark replied, sounding for all the world like a the disgusted sixteen year old boy that he was. "You don't trust us- and it's not like we haven't kept _your_ secrets."

Bruce just looked at him, wondering if this was a test. Did they have a hint, a little niggling idea of what he was? Were they trying to scare him out?

Clark huffed, "How long has it been since I've been to your house? And I haven't said a word. I mean- really. You can trust us- you have, for months- you just didn't know it."

Bruce glared, "What do you mean?"

Clark gave him a flat look, leaned over-

"Nice basement."

/

It was dusty down here, the ceiling arching at least fifty feet above them. The lighting buzzed mechanically as the dim bulbs continued to warm up. Bruce looked around, noticing the broken catwalk above them, the piles of garbage in the corners. Clark Kent was standing in one pile, casually throwing off the piled broken shipping crates and scrap metal to the side. Kid was strong.

"This whole thing is underground?" Bruce asked, turning in a slow circle to mask his irritation. Almost forced to be here- and Wayne wondered if he should have just overpowered Lex and his friend and left in a huff. It would blow his image, but he didn't know if he cared. The security personnel were upstairs, probably thinking the three of them were still sitting in Lex's office.

Lex stood beside him, watching Clark. "Yes. It's Level III, my father used it for clandestine product development. The entrances were bricked over before I was assigned to the Smallville plant."

"It's dirty." Filthy, actually. Bruce felt like he needed to shower- or maybe it was just the company.

"I've been using it for storage." Lex replied, his shoulders lifting in a brief shrug. There was crash, and Bruce turned back to the pile. Clark was pulling an old tarp off something. He finished before stepping back. Lex nodded at what was revealed. "That's it."

Wayne stepped forward. "What do you mean?"

Lex was stepping back, his friend walking over to him. "That's it." He shrugged. "Take a look- tell me if you think we need to talk about further business… alliances."

Bruce walked up, looking over curves and planes of strange gray metal. He dragged a hand over it, thinking it was a fake, and then realizing that even Lex Luthor- frivolous, attention-seeking Lex that did anything for a thrill (who didn't seem to exist anymore) wouldn't go so far for a joke.

There was a color change around what would probably be a cockpit, and Bruce looked up to see Clark standing there. "Here." He said, pressing down on part of the ship. Part of the top… melted… and revealed a softly glowing interior, padded and round.

There were strange symbols around the edges, and Clark reached in, touching one.

And Bruce's world… shifted. And grew, Wayne's view of the universe was unfolding and changing shape to match the obviously otherworldly craft that now lay out before him.

/

Lex sat behind the desk of his office, glaring at the man sitting in the chair in front of him while the millionaire twirled a pen in his fingers. But this wasn't some flunky that had tried to pull a fast one- the man sitting there was Clark.

"Clark," Lex ground out, "what did you mean by 'nice basement'?"

The teen shrugged. "Batman. He's got ties to Batman. Whole secret base and everything."

Lex's eyes widened while the pen froze in his hand. Then he ground out, "and you didn't think it was important to tell me?"

Clark rolled his eyes. "No, actually, I didn't. Just like you didn't think it was important to tell my parents or me about what was happening in the Ohio plant. Or about the fact that you've started having every girl I flirt with investigated."

"You have to learn to look out for gold-diggers. But that's hardly the point-"

Clark gritted his teeth, sitting up straight. He knew that he had to stand up for himself on this. "No, Lex, it is the point. You've always said that we were _**going**_ to be equals- but you never seem to be ready to start treating me like one. Or even find the time to tell me what's going on. Plenty of time to give me orders- look through that wall, find this, look up that- but when am I going to start helping you to make decisions?"

"So you decided to keep secrets from me?" Lex almost snarled.

Clark winced, looking sheepish. "Actually, I didn't think it mattered."

"Didn't think-" Lex sputtered, "but Batman is a viscous vigilante!"

"Who rarely kills and usually turns the criminals over to the cops." Clark shrugged. "He's cool." Then the young man smiled. "I wonder if I could meet him- I bet he's got all sorts of advice for helping people out…"

"Clark…"

"Sorry?"

Lex shot his friend a glare. "Don't look like you're twelve, the real world doesn't take 'opps' as an excuse. So don't do that again… but… you're right. We need to discuss strategy together." He sighed. "But your not even a legal adult yet, so don't expect me to give your arguments equal weight yet."

/

Bruce stalked into the main living room, Alfred on his heels. He glared at the dark curtains, the shadowed walls. Damn his secrets- they managed to box him into a tight corner this time. This was going to take _years_...

Behind him, Alfred queried, "Have a nice trip, Master Bruce?"

"Wonderful." Bruce ground out.

"Did you find out anything on Lex Luthor's plans?"

Bruce laughed hollowly. "We're going into business together. I'm sure Lex will send over the contract as soon as he can manage to arrange the lawyer's deaths to guarantee secrecy- but…" Bruce glanced over his shoulder at his puzzled manservant.

"We're moving the R&D department of several of Wayne Enterprises subsidiaries to Smallville. We'll build the main facility underground, but aboveground we're going to look like two separate companies. He'll get the medical and chemical applications, I'll get the avionics and mechanical products, and we'll split the advancements in computer science."

"Sir? Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

Bruce turned, almost as surprised at the stunned look on Alfred's face as the old man must be himself. Wayne sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "I think," he added, more to himself, "that Lex meant it as a compliment, asking me- you don't just dump that… potential… into anyone's hands. But he backed me into a corner, and I'm still angry."

Alfred blinked, coming back to himself. "Sir? What… happened?"

Bruce snorted. "Two words. Alien. Space. Ship." Alfred just blinked, and Bruce plowed on, "Lex found himself an alien spaceship from a vastly technologically advanced race. And- well, he's afraid that if his father gets the slightest wind of what's going on, he can kiss his find good-bye. Lionel will steal it from him. So… he asked me to go into business with him- security in exchange for research rights."

"Ah." Alfred paused. "Sir, I'm afraid that is three words."

"What?"

"Alien Space Ship." Alfred explained. "And why not the government?"

"Bombs. They'd make bombs." Wayne replied, shaking his head. "And strangely enough, I don't think Lex Luthor will. He's right- it's better in private hands. And we need to check up on that Kent kid again- we must have missed something… he's a little… off."

"Of course, sir."

"I'm going to bed." Bruce muttered, walking off. He'd rather go _out_, but he was exhausted, and that wasn't smart.

/

END PART ONE

Part One Epilogue

/

"So, Chloe, how was Metropolis this summer?" Pete waved his spoon, taking another slurp of his applesauce.

"Oh, it was great!" Chloe was bouncing in her seat at the cafeteria; the lunchroom was loud on the first day of school. "I got to meet the mayor and our senator- and got all sorts of references for college scholarships and future jobs! And I got my name on FOUR stories- it's a record for an intern! And Danko was soooo nice about it. I mean, he's been there forever, and well, I think he was a little jealous- but, hey! What do you expect- and-"

"Whoa girl! Easy on us small-towners!" Pete laughed, then turned to Clark, "Or at least this small town guy. Clark here has been hanging with Lex all this summer- we barely got together."

Clark gave his trademark goofy smile. "I was mostly just working at the farm. And _**you**_ were busy with Karen anyway. How's that going?"

Pete laughed, only a little strained. "We broke up last week man. I called so we could hang, but your dad said you were over at Lex's."

"Yeah, he moved into his new house last week. I was helping him."

"How much stuff did he have? I thought he was up in your extra bedroom- it wasn't that big."

Clark shrugged. "He bought all this new furniture. And he had snuck some stuff into storage before he was kicked out- some of his mother's china and stuff." Clark groaned loudly, "I was exhausted- but it's nice not to have all those security guys around. They're still taking down the surveillance equipment around the farm."

Chloe looked pensive. "Clark- I never got to apologize to him for jumping him at the plant… do you think you could pass the word? I don't want to antagonize my sources…"

Clark gave her a blank look. "Sure."

The bell rang, and the three of them groaned. "Another year…."


	49. Chapter C

Chapter C

Hanns disdainfully picked his way to his chair between the white-coated scientists, professors, and researchers packed into the plain room. He grumbled at himself in disgust. He should never have taken this free trip to out to the middle of nowhere half way around the world for the weekend. He had more important work to do- he had just gotten a copy of the latest script photographs from China.

There were about thirty chairs laid out in a neat square, each chair numbered. Hanns checked his slip of paper over his wire-frame glasses before settling himself down. He glanced at his companions, slicking back is fading gray hair with one hand as he absently noticed that he was the oldest in the room. Preppy young men in 'fashionable' clothes all talking to each other in excited tones, their rapid-fire English hard for him to interpret- LexCorp was no doubt trying to fund some 'new age' research. Damn that he needed another grant- or he never would have come here.

"Hey," said the thin-boned next to him with mousy brown hair, "what's your specialty?"

"Wha-?" Hanns asked, flustered.

The man sighed, "What's your specialty? Mine's biochemistry."

"Biochemistry?" Hanns questioned. "Ah?"

"And you?" The man pointedly asked.

"Ah, sorry," Hanns stuck out his hand, "Dr. Hanns, Ancient Middle Eastern Languages, University of Jerusalem." Mesbitonian, actually, but a chemist wouldn't know that.

"Ancient languages?" The man blinked, his eyes suddenly growing in surprise. "Oh sh…" He turned suddenly. "Mark!" Pointing to Hanns, he announced loudly, "Dr. Hanns, ancient languages." His head swiveled back, the rest of the room suddenly focused on their elder. The young man asking, "do you translate? Work on languages no one really knows yet?"

Hanns nose wrinkled in disgust, carefully forming his words. Didn't need to annoy a fellow researcher, even if he obviously wasn't in his field. "Of course. I've recently published some ground-breaking work on using computers to build… a template for translations of languages that haven't been full translated. Written languages have been around for five thousand years, and there are un-numbered varieties and dialects ah… still needing work. Why do you ask?"

Mark, the man who seemed to be leading the group at the front of the room, gave a tight smile. "I'm Mark Scholvisky. Quantum Physics. Bill, next to you, is biochemistry. Ted, quantum physics, Jason, microbiology, Mary, medical doctor-research, Abilene, mathematician, and Noel, astronomy. As far as I can tell, we're all young, up-and-coming leaders in our respective, diverse fields. The question is, why?"

There was silence, until the blond women introduced as Abilene spoke up. "Oh please, we've all read enough science fiction to figure this out. Chemists, physicists, mathematicians, biologists, and even… the ancient language expert. The linguist. If you won't say it, I will. Where's the aliens?"

/

Hanns rubbed his stomach, trying to settle it after the rather long drop in an elevator he had just taken. He glanced up, breathing the slightly stale air of this obviously man-made underground cavern. He idly wondered how deep he was, considering the LexCorp building at the surface only had three floors.

/

Clark and Lex were in their morning conference room, the small one with the five chairs, the nice furniture, and the lump of steel in the center of the table that Clark had taken to molding with his bare hands like play-dough to relieve stress. Clark had tried making little steel sculptures a few times, but it was more relaxing to just mash it.

Bruce came in, LexCorp/ Wayne Enterprises newest employee trailing behind. Bruce gestured for him to sit, and then patiently began explaining what they wanted done.

Lex's eyebrows rose, as he watched his newest employee digest the fact that he, of all the scientists in the world, was actually going to get to examine a living specimen of an alien race. Clark just looked skeptical. He was mouthing the words 'You picked _him_?' at Bruce. The man in question was a stunning four feet, eight inches tall, very dark skinned, and looked to be a younger rendition of Ghandi in a ragged T-shirt and worn blue jeans. He even spoke with a faint British accent.

"But this is fantastic! A wholly unique species, evolved on a different planet- not even in our solar system… I can just imagine how different and unique he must be. OH, is it male? Female? Neutral? How does he/she/it look? Little green men, or something totally else? Tentacles? When do I meet them, can we communicate with- oh, of course, you do have that trade agreement with them- so how long did it take to learn English?" The diminutive man paused to breathe as he appeared to be almost vibrating.

"Mom said I started speaking in about three months, and I looked to be about 18 months old." Clark wryly said. The doctor blinked his eyes, looking confused.

Bruce Wayne almost smiled as he gestured to the short man. "Dr. Hychlyth is extremely well-trained, and has studied under several of the world's best researchers. He has focused primarily on XXXX, or researching the differences between human and animal biological systems. For example, studying if rabbits really do make good subjects for medical research for humans."

"And he can keep his mouth shut?" Lex asked, crossing his arms and glaring at the little man.

"Of course." Mr. Wayne calmly replied.

"Good. Or I'll hunt him down, and his family, and very painfully show him the error of his ways." Lex glared one last time and turned on one heel, leaving the room.

Mr. Wayne nodded, and with a small smile to Clark, swept out of the room as well.

Clark sighed, and sunk into a chair. He picked up the metal lump, and began squishing it. It looked a little like a dinosaur, so he went with it. They sat there for a minute.

Dr. Hychlyth just looked confused. Clark handed him the steel dinosaur. The doctor took it, and promptly dropped it on the floor. "It's heavy!"

"Looks can be deceiving." Clark shrugged his shoulders.

The doctor picked it up, grunting as he looked it over, "Interesting. How did you get the mass up, depleted uranium in the clay?"

"No. It's just a lump of steel. It was hot-pressed, but now it's closer to cold-forged."

The doctor looked up, then glanced down, realizing he couldn't make any indentations in the heavy mass in his hands. Clark leaned over, easily smoothing a rough edge between two fingertips.

"I look human." Clark said, looking away. Even here, where half the staff already knew who and what he was, this was hard. "But I'm not. We would like to know how different I really am- but I am not willing to be dissected or go through a lot of pain for tests. I'm pretty invulnerable, so getting any tissue samples may be impossible."

"Ah."

"Want to get some coffee and we can outline what's next?"

The doctor blinked. "You eat human food?"

Clark shrugged. "Always have. But we're not sure I actually need to. Not sure if I need to sleep either, breathe, or lots of stuff…" Clark looked grimly into the distance.

The doctor suddenly grinned. "Do you fly?"

Clark tentatively smiled back, "yeah.."

He chuckled a little, it sounded more like a child's giggle from the small man. "Superman?"

The recent college student grimaced. "Yeah, well… in my time off. Can't just sit around all day."

/

"But you see- it's not the best use of my time. I mean, yeah, sure, it feels good- saving a carload of drunk teens from plowing over a cliff, children from burning buildings, grandma from a mugger, but… Look, the preemie baby incubator LexCorp developed from my ship saved ten _thousand_ infants last year alone that were born between 3 and 7 months gestation in the US and Europe. Children without the 'normal' health complications that being a preemie can cause. Children that never would have made it without our tech. There are lots of other medical applications that are saving thousands- and once we get world-wide, the numbers will really jump. The accounting team figured out we'll hit a million sometime in 3-5 years. And they wouldn't be able to do a lot of the reverse engineering without me. That's just saving lives. That doesn't count the standard of living increases in third world countries, or the positive environmental impact better energy sources are having, increased food production…"

"So, your saying that your time is better spent here, within the walls of LexCorp?"

Superman sighed, bone weary. "Yeah. It's not easy. Not easy at all. I try and balance it out, you know? I may not be human, but I do have limits. And it's hard to stay here some days, I feel like I'm turning my back on people all the time. I get to chose- do I save the man in a car-wreck on his way to work, or do I work with the team that's curing breast cancer that will save his wife or mother in a few years? What about energy research? Farming techniques that will save millions of lives from starvation over the years? Space travel to deal with planetary over-crowding? We hope to integrate my ship's tech with NASA and some of the other countries' space programs and get a couple of self-sustaining colonies in our solar system within 20 years.


	50. Chapter B

Chapter B

Author's Notes:

This is about five or more years after "Part One", but I was going to do some time skips in here anyway. So it wouldn't really read that long. Also, I really didn't know if I was going to include this plot point or not- it would help the tension, but could also come off as overkill.

/

They were staring at each other, faces blank and emotionless. Even Bruce looked more withdrawn than usual. Lex absently thought of his earlier days, and how they all looked stoned out of their minds.

If only it was so innocent. He blinked, shaking his head. Cleared his throat. "I hate funeral homes," he whispered, knowing Clark could hear him. "They always smell of antiseptic. And… everyone's so…" He stopped. Walked over, kneeling behind Bruce and Clark who were sitting next to each other. Martha was still at the hospital, Lex couldn't quite believe that they were going to do this without her.

"Lex…" Clark turned to him. "We have to get _him_ for this. Promise me."

"Yes." Lex replied. "We will. I promise. It might take a few years, but we are going to grind-"

"NO." Clark snapped, "Not in a few years- we're going to get him before that. I- I- I can't wait that long. Not for this." Clark was shaking his head in denial, "Not for this. We have to make him pay. Now. We have to take him on directly."

Lex shook his head back, "Clark- I- We- can't. We can't fight him directly. We have to go about it softly, like we planned."

"Lex," Clark ground out, "We can't take that long. We can't. I can't loose anyone else. I can't."

"Clark-"

Bruce cut in, voice hard. "It would take an army. To take Lionel Luthor on directly would take an army. We don't have one."

Lex sighed, but his head snapped up at Clark's words, and all the weight they carried.

"Yes we do. We have me."


	51. Chapter D

Chapter "D"

In these scenes, Lex, Bruce, and Clark have worked together for several years. Lex is riding high- LutherCorp is eroding away (but not dead, especially not the illegal stuff), and Lex has made more money than his father ever did- and helped the world out by improving everything from Healthcare tech to the energy crisis (which is quickly becoming about as much of a crisis as Y2K, if y'all remember what I mean). Unfortunately, these massive strides in technology have finally raises interest from the government, and they have started investigations and 'requested' full disclosure of all product development for 'safety inspections'. After a lot of dragging things out and delays, the three decide to let the cat out of the bag. The poor animal's yowling has been heard by everyone anyway, and the press senses a story.

(Side note: I went with President Bush, cause we have already had two of them, I figure it's kinda like the Kennedy's)

/

The three of them sat in the plain conference room on the middle level of the LexCorp building. Bruce looked icy, so far reserved that he wasn't even there as he sipped his coffee. Clark just looked nervous, before he took a deep calming breath and ran his fingers through his hair. He shook himself, pulling that alien calmness over his apprehension, hiding it away.

Lex looked grim. Neither nervous or unhappy, he just sighed to himself before looking at his partners. "Well, we knew we would have to do this someday. Shall we?"

"Of course." Bruce said, standing as well.

Clark stood, pushing himself up from the chair with both hands. He blinked, looking at the chunk of armrest still clutched between his fingers. Lex sighed. "Clark, watch your speed. You're blurring."

"Damn." Kent whispered, "I'm sorry, I'll focus more. Just give me a minute."

Lex shook his head. "I understand, these things are murder on the nerves. You should have seen me shaking the first time I went in front of the cameras for a press release. Now, just like we planned- pace yourself off me." Lex walked over to his friend. "Just one, two-"

"Three." Clark grinned. "Yeah, yeah, yeah- and we can both-" Clark stopped himself. He wasn't at the labs, they couldn't talk here. "Let's do this."

Bruce headed for the door, Lex following and Clark bringing up the rear. They walked down the corridor, guards snapping to attention as they walked past. More were waiting in the elevator as the three men walked straight in and turned around for the ride.

Lex took another deep breath, eyes glued to the numbers as they counted down.

Bruce shifted, saying, "Twenty bucks that the US Government threatens nuclear retaliation. From the first."

"We're on US soil." Clark murmured, "They'll threaten 'eminent domain' first."

"Yes, but the warning will be there. Right from the first." Bruce returned.

Clark shrugged. "Yeah, well, maybe. I think it will be at least during the second threat. Should we drop the hint that they could wipe Kansas off the map and it won't breach the first wall?"

Lex groaned. "You two. Could we at least focus on looking friendly? It might put them off…"

The door dinged, and all three plastered the friendly/competent/trustworthy smiles on their faces. They stepped confidently into the lobby, their guards met by more uniformed, armed men from LexCorp/Wayne Enterprises. The massive steel and glass lobby was lit up by the warm rays of the setting sun, the vast space filled with the chattering, yelling voices of the Press.

Lex, Bruce, and Clark bounced up the steps to the temporary platform, quickly walking behind the lone podium festooned with microphones sitting on the stage. Lex stepped forward, taking the crowd in for one brief moment.

Lex cleared his throat, and began, "Thank you for coming today. As you well know, LexCorp and Wayne Enterprises have recently been under extreme scrutiny by the United States government concerning their research facilities. There has been some question concerning the legality of the intrusion of the government in our joint venture, and it has become time for us to 'come clean' as it were. To emphasize our united front between myself and Wayne Enterprises, I will be giving a brief statement, at which time an official of Wayne Enterprises will be answering questions."

Lex smiled, an easy smile, before he started in earnest. This was a gamble, but they had all thought it was best. "Approximately fifteen years ago, LexCorp was founded. I started this company for many reasons- some of them personal, some of them more business related. Shortly after founding LexCorp, my company was granted research rights to a particular piece of technology. Shortly after being granted research rights, I formed a partnership with Wayne Enterprises- I realized that this was too big for a fledgling company to handle."

"And I will state now, for the record, that this particular piece of technology has been the starting point for ALL the advancements, patents, new biomedical technologies and pharmaceuticals, aerospace technologies, new computer technologies, and everything else that has come out of LexCorp and Wayne Enterprises in the last ten years."

Lex didn't pause as he continued. "Of course, we aren't done discovering or developing yet. And we have NO intension of letting the United States Government, the United Nations, or any other company, governments, or terrorist groups have access to the original technology. Ever." Lex smiled forcefully for the cameras, trying to convey his 'just give up now' look.

Predictably, the Press started screaming questions. Lex paused until he heard the one he wanted. Trust the Inquisitor to ask.

"Actually," Lex answered, "the technology in question dropped out of the sky."

He paused again, and then added, "No, it didn't come from some other government or country." He smiled, "At least, not one on this planet."

There was the briefest pause before absolute pandemonium broke out. Lex waited briefly before waving a hand to quiet them. They kept yelling, so Lex started talking, "Of course, this did provoke a bit of a debate. Naturally, some would argue that the government of this country should have 'first rights' to such a find." They had quieted down, so Lex asked, "But is that really wise? Take nuclear power- did the government use such knowledge for cheaper energy, or did they make bombs? Our government and the governments across this entire world have shown an alarming tendency to make weapons, not better the world. So- we kept it to ourselves, and developed products that would make this planet a better place to live."

"Some would argue that we did it for the money. True, we're making a bundle, Wayne Enterprises stock has shown that, but a check of our records will show that it's a matter of volume, and that our percentage profits are very, very low. We've offered patent rights on several technologies for prices that only reflect development costs and seed moneys for further research. We have also limited ourselves to developing technologies that are good for our planet's environment. In fact, our primary goal has been to develop a self-sustaining level of technology outside of our influence. But we don't think it is wise to let other groups 'inspect' our facilities."

"Therefore, LexCorp and Wayne Enterprises have decided to offer the following compromise. We will open our books but not our labs. We will allow a group of auditors to review our records. We will prove that our profits are not extreme, and we will continue with our work." Lex's eyes swept the crowd. "Thank you."

He stepped back, while Wayne motioned to one of his Vice-presidents to take the podium. The three of them swept back out of the lobby and up the elevator.

/

The Vice-President of the United States, Mrs. Dunich, sat side-by-side with her husband, her boss, and their other top aides. They were all sipping coffee and nervously watching the CNN announcer discuss options with an 'expert' they had dragged out of some university. '_I had a colleague that went to work for LexCorp ten years ago._' The prim physics instructor replied. '_He never came back from his interview. He just sent a very vague e-mail to give his resignation. I always wondered why. I even visited him once- brought up all the books and papers he had left in his office. He said he was happy, they, LexCorp, had given him a nice house, big yard, gated community with twenty-four hour guards and cameras. I thought it was odd for such a small town, but coming from Manhattan, I didn't think anymore about it._'

"Do you think we can blame the former administration?" One of the aides asked. The President looked at him. He cleared his throat, adding, "I mean, this all happened over a decade ago. It's not our fault we didn't know, right?"

"Damn right." Another grumbled. "Did you see the Secret Service report? The facility openly claims five thousand workers, and by correlating with the IRS, over seventy-five percent are directly related to R&D. Couple that with the satellite photos- the facility must be mostly underground."

"Good God. How did we miss this? The Anti-Terorist Act- isn't the system supposed to raise red flags about this?"

"Yes." Someone sighed. "That department is screaming that they must have had their system's hacked. Their system is somehow- you run the parameters through with any other name in another location and the alarm bells ring. LexCorp, or Wayne Enterprises, you get ziltch. You can even multiply the numbers by ten in Smallville. But they can't track it or trace it. They think it's written into the base code. I think it's deeper than that. The computers themselves have LexCorp logos on them."

"Oh Lord." The aides started murmuring, the President cleared his throat.

"The only thing I want to know- Are they going to take over? Is this some alien front to rule Earth? If this is just some All-America businessmen trying to make a buck and a good name for themselves, then more power to them."

"Sir?"

President Bush shrugged his shoulders, leaning back confidently in his chair. "Listen, politics has been in my family for years. Grandpa and my uncle- they always taught me to think foreign policy. And right now… it might be better if the government doesn't have this technology. China's already been on the phone, they're nervous as hell. Korea… don't get me started. And the Middle East? India/Pakistan? Good God, even the damn Euros. Bless the British, but even they are twitching."

"You have a point." Vice-President Dunich agreed. "But we're going to have to see inside that facility. We need to know what they're planning. And I wonder… if they don't own the spaceship, who does?"

"But… But… we can't just _drop_ this!"

President Bush leaned over, his eyes burning bright. "Who said we would? We _are_ going to find out what, _exactly_, they are doing in that facility." He leaned back. "BUT… if they are on the up and up… well, we'll decide then."

/

TO: ryuiop

FROM: ELuthor

Subject: Recent news

Date: 05/04/2018; 01:28

Hello Bro, you wouldn't believe how much Lionel hit the roof when he was watching CNN this afternoon. I heard him screaming in the other room. Dear old dad was purple in the face and throwing things. I waited in the hall- okay, I was hiding- he was yelling about 'those damn Kents' and something about you being a traitorous viper. I think he thinks you got the ship from your friend Clark.

I think I understand why you did it. You know? Leaving. I always thought it was just cause you couldn't stand him anymore- but it's more than that. You knew you could beat him. And I think I hate him now.

You know why? Even after he's given Junior everything he could while ignoring me, I didn't hate him. He's always been like that. It was just him. But… the staff all made themselves scarce while he was throwing his fit… and he started muttering. Something about how, well, you finally did something right. And if you just would have come to him in the first place, he never would hav_e had to marry 'that bitch'- and he wouldn't have to spend all this time starting over._

I've never been so angry. I was furious.

Because I wasn't alone. Junior was standing right beside me. We snuck back to my room (it is further away). We didn't talk about it, but… Junior is a snotty brat. I've always hated him, cause he knows daddy likes him better. But he was crying, like a little baby. Daddy Dearest finally showed his hand to Junior- showed him how much he was really loved.

I should have been happy, that The Brat finally got what was coming to him… but I can't be.

I guess I'm growing up.

/

TO: ELuthor

FROM: ryuiop

Subject: Re: Recent news

Date: 05/04/2018; 07:04

Sis,

What I wouldn't have done for a picture of him, right then. Waited years, you understand. But I'm a bit busy right now, with the UN calling on the phone, and the President politely making threats. I don't think I have the time to properly enjoy it- so why don't you do that for me? Okay?

Hey, how did your recital go? You said that you were doing that piece from Mozart, did the crowd go wild? Hope so. I sent someone out to get a recording of it- but I haven't had time to watch it yet. Hopefully sometime in the next week.

And yes, I'm dictating my e-mail now, straight from my brain to the net. The best part about going public is that we don't have to hide anymore how far ahead of everyone LexCorp's tech is.

Oh… just be sure to watch CNN tonight. I've got another Press Release. It's going to be enlightening.

/

Lizzy clutched her soda can to her chest, flopping down on the floor in front of the television at Bethany's house. "Oh, come on Claire! We've got to watch it, I've got inside information that he's going to say something important!"

"Gods, Liz, you're such a drama queen. Last week they said they had a spaceship, what could be more important than that?"

On the screen, Lex tapped his pen to his podium, watching the massed reporters yell and scream at him. He sighed, clearing his throat. "Excuse me, may I give my prepared statement before the questions, please? I am sure that it will answer many of your questions…"

The crowd quieted, a dull buzzing in the background as Lex Luthor straightened the papers before him, and paused before beginning. "As I said at my last press conference, LexCorp was granted the rights to research and investigate a space-craft of extra terrestrial origin some 15 years ago. I have since been threatened by the United States Government with eminent domain of the said craft and been informed that I must hand over said craft or suffer the consequences. Well, I'd like to publicly give my response to that-" Luthor paused again, "So, I'd like to say to the United States Government, the United Nations, people of the world, No, I will not hand over the Spaceship- I can't, it's not mine, LexCorp only has research rights, not ownership. I can't legally give away what isn't mine."

The background noise rose to a roar, and Lex Luthor looked to the side, and seemingly answering a question said, "Who owns it? Why, the individual that came in it, actually." The bald man paused in the ensuing wave of stunned disbelief, smiling like a cat with canary feathers between its teeth. "Though, why _he_ needed a spaceship to fly is beyond me… Doesn't use it now."

And while reporters screamed, and Lizzy, her friends, and most of the younger generation squealed out 'I knew it!', the world's powers realized that they would never be able to directly acquire Superman's ship.


End file.
